


In This World of Strangers, I Belong to Someone

by Unforth



Series: All For One, One For All [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Barebacking, Blow Job, Bottom Dean, Castiel and Jimmy Novak Are Twins, Coming Untouched, Dean Has Self-Esteem Issues, Dream Sex, First Time, Homophobic John Winchester, Homophobic Language, I Really Thought This Story Would Be Less Angsty Than the Last One, Incest, Is Anyone Surprised that Dean Has Self-Esteem Issues?, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Oral Sex, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Past Alastair/Dean Winchester, Past Prostitution, Polyamory, Semi-Public Sex, Sloppy Seconds, Somnophilia, Switch Jimmy, Threesome - M/M/M, Top Castiel, Twincest, angst like woah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-18
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-09 21:22:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 28,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4364687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unforth/pseuds/Unforth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The morning after the events of "Sticks and Stones," Dean, Cas and Jimmy have a serious conversation.</p><p>Underage tag is for an adult character talking about sexual encounters he had while he was a child. Said sexual experiences were with adults.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kittenbot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenbot/gifts), [MyMagnificentSelf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyMagnificentSelf/gifts), [Alwaysalice](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alwaysalice/gifts), [Rici_chan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rici_chan/gifts), [Xenrae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xenrae/gifts).



> Within 24 hours of my posting the end of "Sticks and Stones," 5 people asked for an account of the morning after (so, this fic has been written for: kittenbot, MyMagnificentSelf, Alwaysalice, Rici_chan, and Xenrae - without your comments, I wouldn't have written this next...). If that many people ask for something, I'm loathe to deny the request, so here ya go, have a timestamp. :)
> 
> (As usual, I wrote in the A/N for Sticks and Stones that I'd be doing something next...and this isn't that...but what the hey... ;) )
> 
> Title is from a beautiful song called "You Are My Home," from the musical "The Scarlet Pimpernel." You know how some people saw Rent on Broadway like 50 times? That was "The Scarlet Pimpernel" for me - I saw it 4 times in like a year, which was about all I could scrape together considering I was like 15 at the time. [You can listen to it on YouTube.](https://youtu.be/jBkR6FLUT1k) It's important to note - those two characters are brother and sister, not lovers. (Listening to this recording is making me tear up...GOD I loved that show...)

_“Here?” asked Dean in a choked off gasp._

_A passerby gave him a knowing smirk, and Dean flushed bright red._

_“Right now,” agreed Cas with a mischievous grin more reminiscent of his brother._

_“Cas, we’re in_ public _,” Dean hissed. Another pedestrian quirked an eyebrow at him, and he flashed an innocent smile, as if his boyfriend hadn’t just propositioned him on the corner of fricken Shattuck and University. “What if one of your students sees?”_

Boyfriend. _Where had_ that _come from?_

 _“Really?” Cas was practically laughing out loud. “_ That’s _what you’re most worried about?”_

_Beets had nothing on the color of Dean’s cheeks. Judging by how hot his face felt, he must be incandescently red. Everyone was staring at him, all the people on the sidewalks, all the drivers going by, all the shoppers in the stores._

_“I know a place,” cajoled Cas. “No one will catch us, provided you behave.”_

_“You know the rules, Dean,” Jimmy’s voice whispered in his ear, sending a shiver down his spine._

_He’d never been tested in public before, where anyone might hear if his self-control slipped and he made a noise. Could he do it? A flash of heat smoldered behind his eyes, jump-started his heartbeat, quickened his breaths, clenched at his gut, hardened his cock. He wasn’t sure if he could, but he wanted to try. However good Cas and Jimmy needed him to be, he could be._

_“Of course, if you don’t want to…” The grin Cas gave him was unusually criminal, incongruous with his neatly combed hair, his professorial thin-rimmed glasses, the purple tie he’d worn with his black vest and dark blue button-up. The bastard was even carrying a briefcase. Errant thoughts suggested what might be inside that briefcase, and a bead of sweat formed on Dean’s forehead, another trickled down his spine._

_Fingers curled around the bulge in Dean’s pants, barely hidden by thick denim. A squeak of shocked amazement escaped him and he shifted so at least he wasn’t fucking_ presenting _his erection to every passing car. Jimmy laughed, deep and dangerous, but let him turn to face towards the wall. “He wants to, Cas,” Jimmy rumbled, voice low as Cas’ usually was. “He’s playing hard to get.” At the word ‘hard,’ Jimmy pointedly fondled him._

_“Is that so, Dean?” A hand slipped beneath Dean’s leather jacket, nudged the bottom of his shirt up to expose several inches of skin above the waistband of his low-riding jeans, slipped beneath his boxers to rub at the top of his ass crack. “Is my little submissive getting coy on me? I’m surprised, you’re usually so…” A nail scraped roughly over his pucker and he only barely restrained a second unmanly squeak. “…obedient.”_

_He could feel the eye of every single damn person all around on him._ Everyone _was watching._ Everyone _saw his inability to keep quiet,_ everyone _heard the accusation that he wasn’t obedient,_ everyone _knew_ everything _he was thinking._

_“Coming on a little strong, Cas,” muttered Dean. Gaze darting all around, he attempted a casual smile to soothe, distract, appease the watchers._

Nothing to see here. Move along. Jimmy Novak is definitely not fricken jerking me off in public.

_It didn’t matter. They all knew. Knowing, judging, hard looks met his efforts at nonchalance._

_“Sorry,” Cas whispered, cheeks pinking. “I’m embarrassed, too.”_

_“You’re both cowards,” said Jimmy brightly, palming hard strokes over Dean’s erection. Shivers ran through his limbs, tingled through his scalp, the stronger for the necessity of pretending to be unaffected, pretending he wasn’t being observed. “Are we going to do this, or what?”_

_“Yeah,” Dean half-moaned. “Yeah, I’m good. You good, Cas?”_

_“I didn’t think that was the point, Dean,” Cas pressed a thumb against Dean’s entrance, spreading him slightly, and Dean grunted his agreement as tantalizing flickers of pleasure punctuated how empty he was._

_They stood amidst plaster rubble. A vacant window looked out over the street below. The building was boarded up and bore all the signs of being a recession-era construction project, work barely begun before the building was once again left derelict and abandoned. It was eerily quiet, dim, dusty, gray, the empty squares facing the street painfully bright, saturated with vibrant colors and buzzing with the sounds of the city. The contrast was surreal, and Dean’s nerves vanished. The air was hazy with motes that scattered the sunlight, the raw brick walls were festooned with graffiti, dust swirled and rose in clouds around them, and Dean moved as if in a dream, the twins so confident as they steered him that he surrendered unthinkingly._

_As if in a dream…they’d been standing on the street…there had been so many eyes…_

_The suitcase was open on the ground. Dean’s hands were wrapped around the window frame, his leather jacket and shirt protecting him from the cool spring day, his legs spread, his pants and boxers caught at his knees. Jimmy was on the ground beneath him, mouth hovering close enough to Dean’s cock that he could feel hot breath over the tip at every exhalation, tantalizingly out of reach. Two fingers thrust in and out of his ass, lube applied so thickly it oozed down his thigh. His arousal amplified his embarrassment, which compounded his arousal, a feedback loop that left him so hot that he felt feverish, his skin afire. Every inch of him quivered and ached for touch, but aside from Cas’ hand stroking within him, neither brother touched him. The lack of physical contact made him sick. A gust of fresh, cool air rushed through the window, smelling of spring and roasted nuts. So far from making him feel better, it merely reminded him that hundreds of people were passing not 15 feet below. If he made noise, they’d hear. If they looked up, they’d see his desperate, inflamed, unmistakable expression. The sidewalks were packed densely, seethed with people pushing through, shoulder to shoulder, the road clogged with cars and buses and bicyclists. The cacophony of colors caused his vision to swim disconcertingly, the wash of noise hit his hearing like an explosion. Not a soul looked up. Al itl would take was one, and everyone would see, everyone would know. Just like before._

_He was so_ full _, three fingers moving smoothly in and out, in and out, glancing touches against his prostate, heat so close and yet so far from his cock, stretched friction causing him to pant. He needed more, he always needed more._

 _“…please, Cas, please, need your dick, need your hand, please, please…” Whispered words leaked from him uncontrollably. Some part of his brain howled that he’d violated his orders and_ everyonewouldknow _, yet none of the faceless mass looked up, and neither Cas nor Jimmy reprimanded him. “Jimmy, please, please, your lips, your tongue, anything, please…” Why wasn’t he in trouble? Why wasn’t he being punished? He couldn’t make the words stop. None of the shame he usually felt when he begged accompanied his prayer for his angels to give him satisfaction. “Fuck me, need you, please fuck me…”_

 _Cas wrapped around him, pressed his back flush against Dean’s, flesh against flesh, Cas’ skin cool against the inferno that burned through Dean. A shaft of solid, radiant hardness seared and branded against his ass, agonizingly painful, ineffably splendid,_ perfect, _marked him forever, irreparably, irrevocably. Cas’ cock pressed against his hole, and then he was spreading, spreading, fuck it felt like_ forever _since Cas had been inside of him…_

…the images shattered. Dean burst out a satisfied groan as Cas bottomed out within him.

“I’ve got you, Dean,” Cas whispered in his ear, “I’ve got you, I’ll always have you, always want you, as long as you want me, want you so much…” He trailed off in a breathy moan as his hips pivoted back and pushed in carefully, deliberately, his hands splayed on Dean’s chest and lower belly, holding Dean in place. The comforter covered them both completely. The air beneath was swelteringly hot, and Dean was so disoriented he couldn’t interpret the deep blue shadows playing against the surface of the blanket, the brightness that flashed sparklers across his vision, the pleasure of Cas slotting inside of him and filling him perfectly. Muscles throughout his body twitched and tensed, his back went rigid, and his head craned backwards until he bumped Cas’ nose with the back of his head, Cas’ heavy breathing breezing through Dean’s hair. The tight ring of his entrance clenched around Cas, drawing a pained groan. A soothing hand pet down his abdomen, and Dean quivered.

 _University…abandoned building…Cas’ purple tie…Jimmy’s mouth teasing his cock…eyes, so many eyes, watching him…fingers prepping him…guilt and heat and shame and desire…so much desire…fuck me, Cas, please…_ “…please, Cas…”

“So tense,” murmured Cas, concerned. “Did I hurt you?”

“…please…need you…”

“Are you awake?” incredulity broke into Cas voice. “I thought you…you were begging for me…I asked first…I’m so sorry Dean, I didn’t mean to…”

“Awake.” It was hard to gather any sense through thick fatigue and the delightful feeling of Cas cock buried deep inside him. “ ‘s nothin’ t’apologize for. Need you.” Dean was lying on his side in bed, Cas pressed close, chest to back, legs  shuffled together, hands securing Dean as if he were precious. Dean lay one hand reassuringly over Cas’ where it rested on Dean’s chest, and with his other he awkwardly felt before him for Jimmy. “Wherezhe?” His body cried out for the movement Cas was denying him, and before Cas could answer, Dean firmed his grip on Cas’ hand, pulled his hips forward, and sank back against Cas with a satisfied sigh that left the other man whimpering with pleasure.

“Jimmy’s still asleep,” Cas whispered breathily. “I should have let you rest more, but every time I touched you, the noises you made…” Shuddering caused Cas to shift within Dean, and it was Dean’s turn to whimper. “…I thought you were awake, and I…I needed you, Dean…I needed to feel you…I needed to hear more of those noises…” With a faint groan, Cas withdrew slowly, and Dean shivered with the all-consuming pleasure of skin against flesh, hard against soft, thick filling empty, as Cas sank back into him. The hands pressed to Dean’s torso tensed, and Dean shook with need.

 _Home_. _I’m really home._

Wrapping a leg around Dean’s, Cas rolled them backwards, so that Cas lay half on his side, half on his back, and Dean lay partially atop him. The new angle settled Cas more deeply inside him, and an easing glow of heat suffused Dean’s body, draining away the moments of distress that had tightened his body. He could feel Cas smiling against his shoulder.

“Dean…” Cas broke off with another moan as Dean shifted, found an angle that enabled him to take even more of Cas’ cock. _So good_. “Last night…you said you wanted this…you said you deserved this…” Flashes of the night before, nearly as misty and ephemeral as Dean’s dream of meeting the twins on the streets outside Berkeley, came to him. Pain clutched at his heart as he thought of driving away from his home, driving towards Lawrence, John’s voice castigating him, the Milky Way streaking the night sky over California, Jimmy following him, checking his text messages, driving back, the diner, the cathartic make-up sex, falling asleep peacefully certain that today would be better. Waking up, the reality of that belief was confirmed. The only thing better than waking up making love to Cas would have been if Jimmy were involved, too.

“I…” Dean panted, swayed his hips to feel Cas move inside him, spawning essential pleasure to quiet the desire screaming for satisfaction in his head. “Maybe…maybe I do, maybe I…yeah, Cas, want you, I want you, is that okay?”

“Can you…would you…if you want to, you may take what you want from me, right now,” said Cas shyly. “Anything you want. Anything you want from me is okay.”

“This is what I want,” breathed Dean. A choked off noise, pleasure tinged with sorrow, caught in Cas’ throat. An awkward thrust nearly dislodged Cas from Dean’s ass, drove Cas back within him at an angle that left Dean gasping in awe at how much pressure it put on his inner wall, culminating in a burst of pleasure that left him momentarily senseless. “Fucking _God_ , Cas… _that_.” Rolling Dean slightly forward, Cas attempted to replicate the movement, but without that inadvertent close call at slipping out, it wasn’t the same, and Dean whimpered in distress and want at how _ordinary_ Cas’ stroke felt by comparison.

“What can I do to make you feel good?” Cas asked helplessly.

“Always make me feel good,” murmured Dean, caressing Cas’ hand comfortingly. Chasing that incredible high, he drew his hips up from Cas, testing how much he could remove Cas without his actually withdrawing. The effort failed dismally, Cas’ cock slipped free completely in a slick smack of lubed cock rebounding against flesh. A shuddering, miserable cry of shock burst from Dean, and he collapsed down onto Cas’ body, drawing a pained grunt as he landed heavily on Cas’ pelvis.

“Should be asking you that question,” Dean managed. “Want you to feel good.”

“You always make me feel good,” echoed Cas. “Position me any way you’d like. Let me give you what you need.”

Dean wanted to argue. They weren’t in a scene, and Cas’ pleasure should come first, Dean’s second, that was how sex worked. All the conversations of the night before came back to him, though, and Dean quashed the part of his mind protesting and instead nodded. He’d promised he’d do better in their relationship, that he’d try harder to behave in the ways Cas wanted him to behave, and he wouldn’t break that promise, ever, but especially not less than 12 hours after he made the damn thing.

“Lie flat on your back.” Cas complied instantly and Dean pulled the blanket off their bodies. Rising to his knees, Dean straddled Cas’ hips, sitting upright, his back towards Cas’ gaze, Dean facing towards the closed bedroom door. Reaching between his legs, Dean took a hold of Cas’ cock, liberally coated with lube, and lined himself up over it, lowered himself slowly. Hands came to rest loosely on his hips, trembling as Cas failed to breach him, tip sliding against the liquid coating Dean’s rim, tip too wide to open Dean’s still-tight hole. Panting with the desire to go faster, to recover that glorious feeling of being full that he’d lost so unpleasantly abruptly, Dean squeezed his eyes shut and focused entirely on their bodies. He held Cas steady, pressed down against Cas, hovered, ready, until his thighs burned with the strain. Each of Cas’ breaths came noisier than the one before, and it felt like an age passed before Dean’s hole began to spread, Dean’s thoughts running ahead imagining pressure and pleasure in places Cas wasn’t touching yet. Desperate to actually feel the sensations that his mind was replicating the pale shadow of, Dean pressed down, and Cas slipped free, slid along his crack, and they both moaned in frustration.

The bed shifted, mattress springs rocking.

Frantic tears leaked from Dean’s eyes. Fucking _hell_ he needed Cas _right the fuck now_.

“You two are kind of pathetic to watch,” Jimmy said from just behind him, amused. “Here, let me help.” Cas’ hands fell away from Dean’s hips, legs spread beside Dean’s, and Jimmy’s weight settled behind him. Fingers teased at Dean’s rim, tugging him open, and a firm grip interlaced with Dean’s hold on Cas’ cock. An insistent tug down against Dean’s tight-clenched ass urged Dean onto Cas, the additional help enabling Cas’ slick head to breach him easily. Jimmy’s hands darted away, dragging Dean’s away too, and Cas spasmed and groaned desperately as Dean’s tightness compressed around him. With an embarrassing, satisfying squelch, Dean lowered himself down Cas length. Blinking his tears away, Dean slumped in pleasure, taking a moment to savor how good it felt. Cas’ toes curled against the comforter.

_I can give him what I want without neglecting what I want. I can help both of them get what they need without ignoring my own needs. I can._

“So, what, exactly, were we trying to accomplish here?” asked Jimmy with a mockery of idle disinterest in his voice. “Other than fucking my brother stupid?”

Jimmy’s word brought Dean back to the moment instantly, his pursuit of that single stroke that had felt so fucking amazing that Dean had to feel it again.

“I’m going to lean back,” Dean instructed. “You’re going to support my weight.”

“Getting all assertive on me?” Jimmy was outright laughing, throaty and lustful. “I like it, Dean. I like it a lot.”

“Quit being a smart ass and _do it_ ,” demanded Dean impatiently. He let his shoulders fall back, and Jimmy caught him easily, leaning Dean’s upper back against Jimmy’s chest as Jimmy wrapped his arms firmly around Dean’s torso. The ghost of the pressure he sought shivered against his insides as Cas’ erection rested firm against Dean’s upper channel, barely brushing his prostate.

“Anything else you…” Jimmy broke off with a gasp, and Dean couldn’t help a smile, wondering what Cas was doing to his brother. Reaching back, Dean rested his hands on Jimmy’s thighs, locked his elbows to help support his upper body weight, and rested his head on Jimmy’s supporting shoulder. His pelvis was angled back against Cas’ cock, his erection sticking out obscenely, red and solid and neglected, tip sheened in liquid. Hoping like hell this worked, Dean took a deep breath, pivoted his hips up and snapped them back down. Fucking _rapture_ coursed through his body and annihilated his view of the bedroom, curled his spine hard against Jimmy, filled his ears with a deep noise that at first he didn’t recognize as his own voice growling a drawn out groan.

Someone was saying something. Someone was moving. There was a hand at the base of his spine, and then it was gone again. Chill sweat gathered on his brow, slid down his back. None of it fucking mattered. All that mattered was chasing the perfect sensation of Cas stretching him open, raking over the wall of his channel, the bliss of a blunt tip grinding against his prostate, dragging over it, torturing him wonderfully. Dean raised his hips again, lowered them again. It didn’t work as well on the second attempt, nor the third, but persistence paid off, and on the next pleasure flared throughout his body, so encompassing he gasped and cried. Another pivot of his hips brought his cock rock-hard against his belly, leaking pre-come against his skin, as Cas penetrated him deeply, persistent pressure full on his prostate.

“That’s it,” he growled, “that’s it…that…so good, so fucking good, so…” Lifting himself high, he settled hard and failed. What once had felt as good as sex could feel paled beside the fucking _miraculous_ angle they had found. He snarled in frustration and tried again, again.

Cas’ voice came to him as if from a great distance, hollow, tinny, against the rush of blood in his ears. “What…should I do…Dean?”

“Nothing,” snapped Dean. He jerked up, slammed down, and Cas’ groan was suddenly very loud in his ear, as if Cas’ head was right beside his…wait, that was Jimmy. He didn’t even fucking know, it was impossible to keep track of anything beyond his own body. Grunting with the effort, thigh muscles painfully straining at the constant tension in his muscles necessary to maintain his position, to keep lifting himself and lowering himself just so, Dean raised himself once more, jerked down once more, found that perfect spot, found that perfect angle, found a perfect rhythm and absolutely fucking _lost_ himself in sensation and effort.

The world was whiteness saturating his closed eye lids and euphoria flooding his brain and fire fueled by friction and bursts of meaningless white noise that blanked his hearing. The world was a firm body propping him up, heat behind him, beneath him, inside him, strong muscles compressed in his grip. The world was utter fucking _bliss_ streaming through Dean’s extremities, pooling in his core, pulsing through his erection, pounding in his skull, causing his awareness of everything and everyone else to fall away. There was nothing but the laboring of his legs and abs, nothing but the perfection of Cas’ cock within him, nothing but the balance of exertion and joy preventing him from exploding within the first minute. On and on he went, failed thrusts mingled with perfect ones, grunting in frustration and groaning with satisfaction, always in pursuit of that next burst of rapture, barely cognizant of the effect he was having on Cas, barely aware of Jimmy supporting him. A whisper of guilt brought him down to earth, he was being selfish, he was being insensitive, and with that grounding thought he felt the rolling motion of Cas’ hips beneath him, distinguish ragged groans and incomprehensible words, realized there were hands squeezing his hips and helping him replicate over and over the exact movement he craved. The noise resolved itself into Jimmy talking, voice husky in his ear.

“Come on, Dean, come on, take it. Take what you want. You can have this. You have fucking _got this_ , bro. Come for us!”

“Dean!” By contrast, Cas sounded absolutely wrecked, raspy from harsh breathing. “Deaaaaaaan.”

“Wanna see you come untouched, wanna watch your gorgeous cock spew come all over your belly, wanna lick it up afterwards…”

“Oh, _fuck_!” Dean’s cry burst out, his body throbbed in time to his heartbeat, so close to coming that his muscles locked up, his eyes flew open to show him the shadowed pink of Jimmy’s skin where he’d pressed his face against Jimmy’s neck.

Jimmy’s powerful hands lifted Dean’s hips, slammed him down, and Dean shouted rapture that might have been their names, might have been nonsense, as a pulse rocked his whole body, coursed head to toe in an irresistible wave, concentrated at his cock like a fucking shockwave, as fierce as any possessive fist could have pumped, and he thrashed against Jimmy’s grip, rocked desperately against Cas’ cock for every glimmer of sensation to drive him higher, rocked through his orgasm as semen streaked his belly and thigh.

Awareness of anything other than the billowing pleasure suffusing him returned to Dean as a sense of light behind his eyes, a feeling of the bed shaking beneath him, and a pulse like a heartbeat within him. Cas thrust into him weakly, urgently, plagued by the awkward angle of their bodies and restrained by Dean and Jimmy’s weight straddling him. Fumbling, hands sliding on Jimmy’s sweat-slicked thighs, Dean tried to push himself upright and help, but his muscles were like jelly, and then Jimmy dropped him – fricken _literally_ , jerk – and Dean crumpled backwards, back resting on Jimmy’s thigh as the twin leaned to the side and bent over him. Lips brushed dry and hot against Dean’s belly as Jimmy gleefully fulfilled his promise, licking Dean clean, sucking red marks into his skin, tickling him with his tongue. Planting his feet on the bed, Cas lifted his knees up, raised his hips, and chased his climax with desperate, shallow thrusts into Dean’s spent body. Weak giggles came from Dean, interrupted by twitches in exhausted limbs and whimpers of rippling, echoing pleasure

“Dean!”

Cas surged powerfully within him.

“Oh, Dean!”

Twitching thrusts and desperate, loud gasps marked Cas’ orgasm as he spewed his load into Dean’s channel, forcing a moan from Dean. Jimmy laughed appreciatively, licking the last of the come off Dean’s belly, and sat up.

“Good times,” Jimmy said, followed by the sound of his lips smacking. “You good, Cassie?” Vocal panting was the only answer. “May I have him now?” Jimmy’s voice was hungry, and Dean caught a glimpse of blue eyes practically glowing with excitement and arousal.

Dean groaned.

“Ye…yeah,” Cas managed.

Dean groaned again.

Hands seized Dean, manhandled him upright, dragged him off Cas’ cock, streaking white liquid down his thigh where Cas’ dick brushed against him.

“Okay with you, Dean?” A weak sound of agreement was the best Dean could conjure, at a loss as to what Jimmy had in mind. “Cas – you just keep doing what you’re doing. Dean: on your knees.” Obediently, Dean managed, with difficulty, to lift himself, straddle Cas once more, and await any clues of Jimmy’s pleasure. Hands grasped his hips once more, lowered his body, guided him, and then his leaking hole was pressed against Jimmy’s cock, and his body opened easily to the intrusion, slick with lube and come, prepared by fucking himself wide on Cas’ cock, relaxed by his orgasm. Jimmy gave a shuddering groan as he steered Dean over him, around him, and Dean moaned weakly at the feeling of being filled again as his ass came to rest on Jimmy’s thighs.

“Hope you don’t expect me to do anything,” Dean said gruffly, disproportionately proud of his ability to construct a coherent sentence. “Not sure I can move.”

“You’re perfect, Dean,” Jimmy groaned. Fingers dug into Dean’s hips bruisingly hard, holding him in place. Smoothly, easily, Jimmy cocked his hips back and slid nearly free of Dean’s body and thrust back in swift and hard, flesh slapping on flesh as their bodies met once more. Both groaned simultaneously.

“Fuck, brother...that feels...” Jimmy snapped back and thrust again urgently, catching Dean by surprise, slamming again his prostate. Pleasure shuddered through Dean’s body, and Jimmy didn’t pause for an instant, thrusting again, again, a brisk rhythm. He fucked up into Dean’s body with abandon so roughly that only the ample lubrication ensured that it felt good. And _fuck_ did it feel good! Broken moans leaked from Dean; each new thrust wracked him with mind-numbing pleasure.

“…just like that…fucking Christ, Dean, my brother opened you real good…so good…” Dean’s spine felt pliant and rubbery, his balance was shot, and it was all he could do to keep upright as Jimmy pounded into him again and again, muttering semi-incoherently, grunting and groaning the whole time. “...your fucking hand, Cas...geeze, right there, right fucking there...” It dawned on Dean’s muddled thoughts that Jimmy was thrusting back as needily as he thrust forward, and Dean twisted and caught a glimpse of behind Jimmy’s perfectly curved back: the intent expression on Cas’ sweaty face, the tight dark nubs of Cas nipples, the movement of Cas hand as he fucked four damn fingers into his brother’s ass. Jimmy jabbed a shoulder against Dean’s, shifted Dean’s weight forward, and the view was lost from Dean’s sight. Another thrust penetrated Dean deeply, and he closed his eyes to bathe in pure sensation.

“…love getting you second…” Jimmy sounded half-delirious with pleasure. “...love it when you’re fucked out…love watching you come...love giving you even more...all the pleasure you deserve...you fucking sex god...wanna give you more...wanna give you everything...Dean...”

Jimmy’s cock jammed into his prostate and Dean’s entire body quaked, his cock giving a pathetic attempt at thickening that caused it to flop and twitch against his thigh.

“... _fuck_ , Dean...”

Dean groaned, sweat sliding their bodies together as easily as Jimmy’s cock slid within his body. Jimmy’s words gave way to heavy breathy as his movements grew jerkier, smaller and faster.Suddenly, Jimmy shoved Dean forward, allowed Dean to collapse against Cas’ raised, bent knees. Jimmy leaned forward, planted his hands on the mattress on either side of Cas’ legs, and switched to slow, deep strokes, filling Dean over and over again.

“Feels good,” Dean breathed, tears in his eyes. He wrapped his hands around Cas’ knees in a vain attempt to hold still against Jimmy’s thrusts.

“Yeah,” groaned Jimmy.

“Yeah,” echoed Dean vaguely, rocking back against Jimmy, desperate for every lick of pleasure. “...feels so good when you use me…so good right now…”

“Good...like that...want you to...” Jimmy huffed a laugh against his back that Jimmy’s pants rendered more like a choking sound. “Fuck…gonna come…gonna come…in your fucking _gorgeous_ ass…Cassie’s fingers in me… _fuck_ …” With a ragged cry, Jimmy slammed hard into Dean and Dean fucking _felt_ the pressure inside him increase as Jimmy’s semen filled him in a thick burst. Dean moaned andrutted against Jimmy, milking him through his orgasm. Jimmy went limp against Dean's back with a deep groan, followed a moment later by a shocked gasp. “Cassie!”

Beneath them, Cas chuckled roughly.

It was easily a minute before Jimmy found it in himself to move andremove his increasingly limp dick from Dean’s ass. Flopping over, Jimmy tipped sideways and fell to the bed with a sigh and a squeak of bedsprings, one of his legs sprawled over Cas’ stomach.   Dean followed suit, rolling limply off Cas’ legs, the soft bedspread tickling his over-sensitized skin.Hecurled up, thighs to his stomach, simultaneously extremely proud of and mildly disgusted by the way thick liquid oozing out of his loose hole.

A hand fell on his side and his breath caught, his body twitched, his eyes flew open to show him an out-of-focus view of the quilting on the comforter.

“Hey, you okay?” asked Jimmy gently.

“That was fucking awesome,” mumbled Dean.

The mattress bounced, weight lifted from nearby, and then Cas was in his field of vision, settling beside Dean, wrapping arms around Dean’s waist, ignoring the way Dean’s knees dug into Cas’ stomach. Cas lay hands on Dean’s shoulders and brushed a kiss over Dean’s forehead, his cheek, the tip of his nose, his lips.

“Was that good, Cas?”

“It was great,” said Cas tenderly. “You know you’re amazing, right?” Dean flushed and averted his eyes. Cas wiggled down on the bed until Dean had no choice but to meet the gorgeous blue staring at him with shocking intensity. “Utterly amazing.”

Jimmy shimmied closer to Dean’s back, and Dean relaxed, let his legs ease against the bed, let Cas cradle him close.

 _Home, with my boyfriends, in our bed, enjoying my relationship_. He had just enough sense left to think that something about that thought should bother him, but it didn’t. It sounded perfect.

“I know we need to talk,” Dean’s voice sounded weird in his own ears, his mouth fumbled over the familiar sounds. “I said morning…and it’s morning…but can we sleep more?” His eyes slipped shut, and when he opened them again, Cas had shifted, had moved Dean’s head to rest on his shoulder and was petting Dean’s hair gently. Jimmy’s damp forehead was pressed against his back, and Jimmy rubbed a thumb just above his belly button in a way that was bizarrely wonderful. “Sleep okay?”

“Yes, Dean,” Cas kissed his nose again. What the hell? There was no anger in the thought, though, just exhausted bemusement. “Sleep now. We’ll talk later.”

Unlike the night before, as Dean drifted off there were no last thoughts, no parting concerns, not a single thing to distract him except for peace and serenity. Everything was alright.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...I had a bit of a tragedy. On Saturday night I finished this story, hit save, closed the file...and lost three hours of work and probably around 4k or 5k words of the 10k I'd written that day. On Sunday morning I reconstructed everything I'd lost, and now it's even longer, and now that I've edited I don't think it's worse, but in truth I'm not even sure. All I know is that it's done, and I could probably do better but losing the work was so upsetting and kind of demotivating that I worried more about pushing through and finishing this story than I did about how good it actually is. :)
> 
> So, I hope you like it, this chapter is an enormous stinking pile of angst...sorry about that, truly I thought this conversation was going to be schmoop and instead it just didn't happen.
> 
> It got long enough that I split it into two chapters. The rest is written, I just have to edit it, and it should be up tonight - tomorrow morning at the latest. There's some fluff there. Promise. :) Ya'll have earned it...
> 
> I tried to work in the requests I've had for some more of Cas' point of view on things.
> 
> All in all...hope you enjoy! :)

Everything was most definitely _not_ alright.

Judging by the brightness in the room, it was well into the afternoon, and brilliant sunlight rendered the light behind Dean’s eyelids practically incandescent. No matter how much he might like to pretend to still be asleep, the heat made not moving uncomfortable, and the need to use the bathroom made getting up imperative.

He was disgusting. He was dirty, his skin sticky in places, his hair matted down. He could smell his own sweat and a tangy, slightly nauseating aroma that he suspected was stale semen. His body ached all over, his thighs and abs especially, the fingers of his injured hand refused to bend, not to mention his ass, reminded him pointedly that in the space of 24 hours he’d worn that damn butt plug for half a day, been fingered to the high heavens, then gotten reamed by two men in a row. Sure, two of those had been goddamn _awesome_ but the first had stunk on ice. In his half-awake state it had been easy to forget and ignore all the places he hurt and just have really fucking amazing sex, but lying on the bed now he was reminded that he wasn’t 19 any longer, and he felt every single place he’d been gripped, slammed into, or sucked on to the point of bruising.

Yeah, that was the problem. Nothing else was wrong.

 _Fuck_.

 _We’ll talk in the morning_.

That had been easy to say the previous evening, when “talking in the morning” was “future Dean’s” problem. “Last night Dean” could blithely promise explanations while basking in the gratitude and affection he garnered simply by showing up when his return wasn’t expected. What a fucking low bar to hit. The twins had only gone easy on him because it had been a long day, and they’d been too happy he was back to pick a fight. Now that the afterglow had surely worn off and everyone had gotten some sleep, there would be no more procrastinating. “Today Dean” faced the unenviably task of actually putting in to words what the fuck had been going on in his head the previous day, knowing that doing so would open him up to even further questions that he’d have to either evade or answer, all with the understanding that if he wasn’t extremely careful, he could drive away the two most important people in the world.

Holy _shit_ , really?Jimmy and Cas were the two most important people in the world? What about Sam? What about Bobby and Ellen and Jo? What about…fuck…there really weren’t any other names on that list. Not even Sarah. Sam’s fiancée was sweet enough and Dean was attached to her because she made Sam happy, but if she disappeared forever and Sam was still happy it was all the same to Dean.

The twins really were the two most important people in Dean’s world.

 _Fuck_.

He _really_ had to use the fucking bathroom.

Groaning, massaging his temples with his clumsy off-hand, Dean rolled off the bed. He felt a momentary stab of relief as he realized that he was alone, the door was closed, no one knew that he was awake.

They’d know as soon as he flushed, the pipes were audible throughout the apartment.

They’d probably been awake for a while.

They were out there, waiting for him.

Dean groaned again. Maybe it wasn’t too late to drown himself in the bath tub.

The tell-tale flush gave him away, and Dean frantically sought some other means of delaying the inevitable. Eying the bath tub – it was too small for him to drown in, really – he thought a shower wouldn’t go amiss. He hadn’t taken one yesterday, too excited about the scene to come, and the prospect of putting clothes on over the layer of filth that coated his skin was unappealing to say the least. Flipping the water on to give it time to heat up, Dean went through his usual morning rituals, brushed his teeth, managed to not cut himself shaving, popped a vitamin.

Scalding water quickly washed away the gunk and spread relaxing heat through his tight muscles. With a sigh of relief, Dean allowed the water to sluice over him, run through his hair, stream across his skin, dye his flesh red everywhere it touched.

What the _fuck_ was he going to say?

_Hey, guys, I know I’ve been out of the closet for a decade but consider yesterday my extremely belated Big Gay Freak Out._

He wet a washcloth, lathered it with body wash, and scrubbed himself harshly.

_Hey, guys, my baggage has baggage, and that baggage has baggage, it’s like a big nesting clusterfuck of baggage, like those fucking Russian dolls. I’m sorry that yesterday when we stripped off one layer of how much I suck it uncovered a whole new layer of how much I suck right beneath._

Filling his hand with shampoo, he closed his eyes and worked up an epic number of soap suds in his hair.

_Hey, guys, I fucking suck at saying I’m sorry because we learn this shit from the adults in our lives and the only adult in my life was John fucking Winchester and he never apologized for a damn fucking thing in his entire worthless bullshit existence._

Pain gripped Dean’s heart, a slew of memories of his father flashed through his mind. John’s smile, the way he laughed, the way his whole face lit up on the few occasions when he’d been truly happy. The hard-earned, rare words of praise, John laying a hand on young Dean’s head, ruffling his hair, saying, “ya did good, son.” John teaching Dean how to shoot, going on hunting trips together, working together to teach Sammy the ropes once he was old enough.

It hadn’t all been bad times.

_No son of mine._

There had been one hell of a lot of bad times, a stark contrast to the thin paucity of good that he could think of. Even the few shining beacons soured when he really thought about them.

That wasn’t fair. Dad had it rough. John had loved Mary, and she died and left him a single dad with a job that couldn’t support a family, too little money for daycare for the infant boy he didn’t know how to care for, too few hours in the day for everything that had to be done. John didn’t have the skills to raise Dean and Sam, he was overwhelmed, he was upset, he turned to the only thing that helped him. Dean couldn’t condemn John for drinking, Dean had spent a good amount of his early twenties drowning in booze, too.

The litany of excuses was familiar. Dean had rolled them out repeatedly throughout his teens, the desperate justifications of a youth finally old enough to realize that his idol was badly tarnished. It was all fucking _bullshit_.

John could have done better. John should have done better. John had put all his shit on Dean from the time Dean was a little kid, and Dean was fucked in the head because of it. Dean was in danger of losing the thing that he wanted most because his dad hadn’t been able to put his selfishness aside even to care for the only two people he’d had left in the world that he loved.

Surely, there must have been a time when John had loved both Dean and Sam.

Dean would _never_ be like his father.

Resolutely turning the water off, Dean stepped out, toweled off, and got dressed quickly: boxers, jeans, one of Jimmy’s ratty old t-shirts, socks to keep his feet warm. No matter what, he’d never turn into his dad. He wouldn’t let the ghost of John that haunted him screw up his relationship.

Time to face the music.

As soon as Dean opened the bedroom door, the smell of coffee hit him like a Mack truck, drawing him to the kitchen. Matching pairs of blue eyes pinned him as soon as Dean stepped into the room, looking up from where each sat on opposite sides of the small table, and his determination wavered, his cheeks colored, and he lowered his gaze rather than risk seeing and interpreting the meaning of their looks. Nonetheless, he could feel them staring at him as he crossed to the cabinets, pulled out a mug, filled it two-thirds full, and then defiantly went into the sugar bowl and poured in a healthy amount of sweetener.

“Wow, it’s a three teaspoon day, is it?” said Jimmy. “That’s a first.”

“Shut up, Jimmy,” Dean said spiritlessly.

“Dean…” Cas trailed off. “Would you look at us, Dean?” Reluctantly, Dean turned to face them, cloaking a narrow-eyed, lowered gaze under the illusion of blowing cool air over the surface of his coffee. They were harder to tell apart than normal, both equally mussed, unshaven, and tired looking. Jimmy wore a loose tunic shirt that Dean knew from experience was fricken angel soft; Cas had on an undershirt that bared muscular, toned shoulders distractingly. Both were watching him inscrutably.

“It’s okay,” Cas said, catching Dean’s eyes insistently. “Whatever you say, it’s okay. We don’t have to do this at all unless you want to. You don’t owe us an explanation.” Cas’ face was all earnestness and ingenuous trust, but Jimmy’s told another story, clouded, brow furrowed. No matter what Cas said, one of the Novak twins felt owed an explanation.

Taking a sip of the coffee, scowling at the cloying sweetness and the scalding liquid that burned the top of his mouth, Dean placed the mug down. Setting his hands on the counter, he hefted himself up, an inadvertent grunt of pain accompanying the action as his injured knuckles protested unexpectedly and severely.

“What’s wrong?” Cas asked, rising abruptly. Before Dean could object, cool hands were gently cupping his, manipulating his fingers, pain pricking him. He tried not to wince, but he couldn’t help it.

“Doesn’t matter,” he said gruffly, jerking his hand away.

“But—”

“It’s not serious,” Dean snapped. “Look, I’ve got shit I _have_ to say, and if I don’t say it now, it’s not going to happen, so please, just sit down and let me do this, alright? Please?”

There was a pause, Cas watching him with a troubled expression, and then Cas nodded slowly, a slight compression to his mouth the only sign that Dean’s harsh reaction hurt him. A final tender caress against the injury sent soothing warmth up Dean’s arm, and then Cas set the hand down on Dean’s leg, turned and returned to his chair. Silently, Jimmy watched the exchange through narrowed eyes.

The moment stretched out as they honored Dean’s request, gave him time to say what he needed to say, and he flailed for how to start, what to say. It was impossible to grasp an idea, every iota of him screaming that there was nothing he could confess to that wouldn’t alienate the twins instantly. 

They were both staring at him.

“Fuck,” Dean muttered. “Seriously, do you two not realize how fucking intense it is with you both looking at me like that?”

“What would you rather we do?” said Jimmy sarcastically. “Wait, I know. Cassie, why don’t we go out to lunch and Dean can say what he needs to say to the empty room – you’ll text us when you’re done, right Dean? We can come back after, when it’s nice and comfortable for him.”

“Not helping,” groaned Dean, dropping his face to his hand, rubbing his fingers over his features, wishing he could scrub them away completely and disappeared. Anger flared in his breast, but he quashed it. Dean had earned every bit of approbation that Jimmy might heap on him and then some.

“Jimmy,” Cas started angrily.

“It’s okay, Cas,” Dean said.

“It’s not! This—”

“It is,” interrupted Dean. Thank God for small mercies, Cas was directing his fixed gaze at his brother instead of at Cas. “Shit, man…I made you cry yesterday.” That drew Cas’ eyes back, and Dean gulped coffee and pressed on. “That’s epically not okay. I acted like a total fucking asshole to both of you when all you did was try to ask me why I was upset, when all you wanted to do was to take care of me when, honest to God, I needed you to take care of me but there was absolutely no way I could let you do so. I’m so shit at communication that I couldn’t even tell you, because facing your reaction to the shit that runs through my mind every damn day is unthinkable, and accepting your kindness when I haven’t earned it hurts worse than if you were punching my lights out. I acted like my dad yesterday. I _never_ want to be John. _Never_.”

The anger in Dean’s voice as he finished brought matched shocked, wide-eyed looks to handsome faces. Dean didn’t talk about John, not ever, not even with Sam. The most massive, blow-out argument Cas and Dean had ever had was the one and only time that Cas had dared to broach the topic of John Winchester and raise the possibility that John’s treatment of Dean was the source of Dean’s issues. Cas could keep his psychoanalysis bullshit for his students and, someday, his patients. Dean didn’t need a doctor to know that John had royally fucked him up, and he didn’t his best friend to encourage him to be frank about his _feelings_ related to the ways that John had abused him.

“Dean…” Cas trailed off.

Except, maybe, he did need the twins’ support. Could Dean be happy as long as John haunted him? Did Dean have a single tool for combatting all the derogatory, negative commentary that constantly streamed through his head?

“Dude, I thought you worshipped your dad,” said Jimmy slowly, his earlier exasperation fading in the face of his surprise. “You rip in to anyone who dares suggest that he was anything other than a gold star, ‘exceeds expectations’ parent.”

“Yeah, well, he wasn’t,” said Dean, staring into the rippling surface of his coffee cup. “He was a drunk and an asshole. He couldn’t be bothered to take care of himself, much less look after Sammy and I. Dad didn’t think being a mother was his responsibility, but since it had to be _someone’s_ , it became mine. There was never enough money to afford everything we needed, there was never enough time to finish everything that had to be done, so I prioritized.”

“When it was a choice between buying a comic book or buying food – there was no choice. When it was a choice between going on a school trip or being home right after school to help Sammy with his homework – there was no choice. When it was a choice between getting an extra half hour of sleep or cleaning up the vomit soaking into the living room rug – there was no choice. There was never any actual choice, there were only things that needed to be done, and there was only me to do them.”

 _Fuck_ how he wished that Jimmy and Cas would do anything other than watch him.

“So I did what I needed to do.” He chugged the coffee and watched the dregs like they could tell his damn fortune. Anything was better than looking up and being met by blue eyes again. There was nothing else to say. They wondered why he struggled so much to speak about his own desires, and that was why, there was little enough else to it. Wanting things got him nothing but trouble as a kid, so he stopped wanting anything for himself, replaced his own desires with Sammy’s needs. It had all been worth it, to see Sam where he was now.

“Why don’t you think you deserve those things, though?” asked Cas. Annoyance spiked through Dean. If that wasn’t fucking “therapist Cas” voice, Dean would eat his boots.

“Why the fuck do you think?” Dean managed to channel his irritation into exasperation. “I was 9 fucking years old, and I wanted that fucking comic book. There were 20 bucks in my pocket, from pawning off a bracelet of moms. I _knew_ we needed groceries but I _really wanted the comic_ and I had the money. That made me a selfish sonuvabitch, putting my desire for some damn picture book against Sam’s need to have food on the table. Greedy little bitches don’t deserve comic books. That’s what I was, selfish, self-centered, greedy. Wanting the comic and resisting the temptation was hard. Knowing, intrinsically, that I didn’t _deserve_ the comic, because someone like me didn’t deserve indulgences – that was _easy_. Instead of having to force myself away, I was never tempted in the first place. I went and bought dried pasta and past-due bread like I shoulda fuckin’ done in the first place. Sammy and dad deserved to eat.

“That shouldn’t have been on me, and I get that, it should have been on dad. But he couldn’t do shit for himself or us after mom died, so I did what he couldn’t. I know that it fucked me up. I know that it made me fucking impossible to deal with, and I appreciate how hard you’ve both tried, but if my being screwed up is a deal-breaker you have to tell me now because I can’t live constantly on the edge of freaking the fuck out worrying that I’m going to lose you when you realize what a damn mess I am.

“Cause I am, I really am, I am utterly totally fucked in the head. Cas, you say the sweetest shit to me, and all I can think is how full of it you are, and when I tell myself that’s bullshit cause you’ve never lied to me and you never would, I tell myself you’re deluded, and when I convince myself _that’s_ not true, it turns to ‘if he knew who you really are he’d never waste his breath.’ Next thing I know I can fucking _hear_ dad laying into me again for all the same shit: I’m stupid and lazy and selfish and disrespectful and ungrateful and I’m a fucking pussy for taking it up the ass. Only someone jacked up would enjoy the things I enjoy. What the fuck am I even doing? And it comes full circle cause I know that if you knew I was thinking all that crap just because you said something nice to me, you’d leave, cause what the fuck kind of loser can’t take a simple compliment?”

He was shouting, all the pent-up emotion of years spilling from his mouth. Cas had his head quirked in the way that meant he was utterly shocked and Jimmy was staring as if he’d never seen Dean before and _fuck_ it was exactly as he’d just been saying. When he let them see all the anger and self-loathing that was beneath the surface, they couldn’t handle it, they didn’t like it. The real Dean Winchester had no place in this threesome, only the sub, only the obedient boy who cleaned house and worked part time and lived dependently.

“Shit,” Dean muttered, slamming the mug against the kitchen counter next to him. The handle snapped off in his hand. “ _Shit_!”

“Dean—”

“No!” interrupted Dean. He couldn’t help himself. Everything he felt was too much, facing their surprised condemnation was too hard. The looks on their faces warned him exactly what was going to happen when he stopped talking. If only he could find the right words, maybe he could keep this all from crumbling before his eyes. He _needed_ this relationship.

 _Yes_ , this was a fucking _relationship_. It wasn’t a fling and it wasn’t temporary and it wasn’t short term and it wasn’t disposable. Jimmy and Cas weren’t disposable. He needed them both, desperately, wanted them both. Being with them was essential to the happiness he didn’t deserve and was never entitled to. Who was he fucking kidding? It was all gonna collapse anyway.

“Don’t fucking say it, Jimmy. I _know_ , okay?” Dean couldn’t keep the anger and anguish from his voice. “I mean, even casual shit – you tell me dinner is good – all I can think is that it’s fucking _garbage_ , because I made it, and everything I touch turns to shit. Compliments don’t make me feel good, they make me feel pathetic because _fuck_ I’ve fooled you _again_ and I wasn’t even trying to. Somehow, it just happens, no matter what I do you both persistently flat-out refuse to see _me_. I have no fricken clue who you think I am, but whoever it is I know it’s not Dean Winchester cause the person you see has value.” There were tears in Dean’s eyes, tears in Cas’ and Jimmy’s. “I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep going through the motions and waiting for you to figure out who I really am. I wake up every morning and I can’t believe I’m in bed with the fucking Novak twins, cause the first time I laid eyes on Cas all I could think was how much I wanted to look up and see blue staring at me as I blew him, and that first night after I met Jimmy I went to bed and woke with my boxers soaked through because I’d dreamt about being with both of you. You two are literally my every damn wet dream come true and it’s fucking surreal because that’s not _me_ , I don’t get to have _anything_. And I know one morning you’ll wake up and instead of seeing whatever fantasy you’ve constructed, you’ll see _me_ and you’ll realize what a monumental mistake you’ve made. I’m so fucking _scared_.”

Dean squeezed his eyes shut, wishing that doing so could deny the tears streaking his cheeks, dripping from his chin. This was not fucking happening. He wasn’t crying in front of Jimmy and Cas. He hadn’t just admitted how weak and pathetic he truly was. He couldn’t…

There were lips on each of his cheeks, gentle pressure kissing his tears away. A denial died in his throat, replaced by a choked sob, and arms wrapped around his waist.

“I love you, Dean,” Cas murmured in his ear. “I love you’re being suave and cool, I love lounging on the couch with you watching Star Trek, I love when you’re showing off the Impala like it’s literally your baby, I love waking up and having you be the first thing I see. I love when you’re strong, I love when you’re vulnerable, I love you when you trust me. Nothing that lets me know you better will cause me to stop loving you. I honestly don’t think _anything_ could cause me to stop loving you.”

“Even when you’re being an asshole,” continued Jimmy in his other ear. “Even when you’re full of it. Even when you retreat from us and you’re so far away I have no idea how we’re going to get you back. Even when you play it cool when _it_ is so obviously not cool. Even when you _need_ and aren’t able to give back a damn thing in return. Dean, it’s you and it’s Cas and it won’t ever be anyone else.”

“You don’t know that.” Dean hated how broken he sounded, how tired and sad and defeated. “You can’t promise me that.” _I could never ask you to promise me that_.

Neither answered and the silence stretched out unbearably. He had to fill it, had to make them see how damn blind they were. Burying his head against fabric and the firm flesh beneath without the least clue which of them he’d drawn close to, Dean continued, his voice muffled by the fabric.

“I’m never good enough. I’ll never be good enough. No matter how much I do, there will always be more that I can’t.”

Somehow, Dean had to get them to look at him and see _Dean_. It was his own fault they didn’t. There was so much he’d never told them.

“Jimmy, that thing…that thing you thought last night, about dad and me…that really didn’t happen,”

“Really?” Jimmy’s voice went flat, cold and angry, and Dean flinched. An instant later there was a hand on his head, fingers running through his hair, trying and utterly failing to ease him. “You expect me to believe that fucking John Winchesterdidn’t hurt you in every way it’s possible for a parent to hurt a child? You can’t shit a shitter, Dean.”

“What do you…?” The chest Dean leaned on rose and fell – it was Cas, apparently – and the hand on his head stilled.

“Winchester abused Dean,” Jimmy snarled.

“I know,” said Cas, troubled, redoubling his attempts at soothing Dean’s tension. “I told you about the bruises…the things I heard John say…”

“No,” said Jimmy, disgusted. “Not like that.”

“Don’t say it, Jimmy, it’s not true.”

“He fucking sexually abused Dean,” Jimmy was absolutely furious. Cas went stiff, his hand stilled.

“He _didn’t_.” Anger seized Dean and he shoved them away from him hard. They stumbled back, Jimmy muttering curses under his breath, Cas’ looking devastated. There were so many ways that Dean was a disgusting wreck, the last thing he needed was for them to come up with the one thing that wasn’t true and believe it. “Dad fucking _screamed_ at me if I set a foot out of line or dared to think that maybe, just _maybe_ , I should spend a minute worrying about myself instead of taking care of Sammy. He beat me six ways from Sunday whenever he fucking felt like it, and I seriously thought he would kill me when he found out I liked cock. But he never laid a fucking _finger_ on my dick or my mouth or my ass. He fucking _hated me_ too much for that.”

Arms were around him again in an instant, Cas pulling him close. Raising his hands defensively, he got a grip on Cas’ shoulders intending to push him away, but he couldn’t, he just _couldn’t_. Instead he tangled his hands in the fabric of Cas’ undershirt, laid his head over Cas’ heart and sobbed. He’d never told anyone any of that, kept it close his whole life, from the first time when he was five and John had told him off for leaving Sammy in a dirty diaper all day; from the first time when he was eight that John had twisted his arm hard enough to dislocate his shoulder, had left it that way for hours before sobering up enough to pop it back in to place, telling him that if Dean tattled, the men from the government would take Sam away. He loved his father and Sam. He gave up everything he’d ever wanted for them, and John had hated him and he never understood why. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t, he’d never done _anything_ to deserve the shit his father had laid on him. Now he didn’t even know what to do with himself because he couldn’t lose Jimmy and Cas. Nothing would be worse than that. He’d fucking die without them. He might look like he was alive, but he wouldn’t be. The last traces of Dean Winchester would be just fucking _gone_ and all that would be left would be a ghost haunting some dusty mechanic shop somewhere.

“You’re not going to lose us.” Soothing words cracked through the horrors screaming in Dean’s head. “We’re right here. We’re staying right here. You worked so hard for so long, Dean. You sacrificed so much for your family, and you’re right, John didn’t deserve your kindness and dedication. He shouldn’t have yelled at you. He shouldn’t have hurt you. You didn’t deserve it, and it wasn’t fair.”

Oh, _fuck_ , how much of that had he just said aloud?

“I still think I was onto something,” grumbled Jimmy.

“You were,” Dean said, exhausted and defeated. “John didn’t touch me, but plenty of others did. I’m a whore.”

 _I need them to want_ me _, need_ me _. I have to make them look at me. I can’t keep pretending to be someone I’m not. Not with them. They’re family. They’re home. They’re the most important people in the world._

“I'm fairly sure you haven’t been sleeping around considering you’ve been in our bed almost every night since January,” said Jimmy sarcastically.

“I never told Jimmy the things your father said outside Harvelle’s,” Cas said tersely. Though his words were clearly meant to be comforting, they blind-sided Dean. Cas _had_ overheard what John has said that night, and he’d never said one damn word about it. What that might mean, the possible ramifications, exploded in Dean's mind. If Cas knew all along, why hadn’t he told Jimmy? That simple question destroyed every flicker of an innocuous excuse that Dean could conjure in Cas’ defense. Each potential explanation was worse than the previous.

Cas got off on knowing other men had used Dean. Cas cared so little that it didn’t matter that Dean was damaged goods. Cas was so ashamed of Dean’s past that he’d never even told Jimmy, when he told Jimmy everything. Dean was Cas’ dirty little secret.

No, it wasn’t like that, Cas cared about him.

 _It’s not that he doesn’t see me, it’s that he’s flat-out refusing to look at me. When he sees the real me, it disgusts him so much he has to hide it, even from his brother_.

“Get your hands off me,” mumbled Dean.

 _I thought we could make this work. What a fucking_ idiot _I am. It’s just like with dad. Underneath it all, it’s all lies, the same lies, over and over again._

“Dean?”

 _Why won’t you see_ me _, Cas?_

“I said, _get your fucking hands off me_ , Cas,” Dean roared. Cas tensed but didn’t move. Enraged, beyond words, beyond thinking, Dean shoved Cas back as hard as he could, overpowering him easily. Tripping back, Cas slammed against the edge of the table and grunted in pain as it dug into his back. Balance shot, Cas slid to the floor, clutching his back with a groan.

“What the fuck?”

“Dean?”

Jimmy’s shouted anger felt fantastic, Cas’ confusion cut like a knife, and Dean was paralyzed. His instincts screamed to run, but he couldn’t leave without knowing if Cas was alright, knowing if he’d hurt Cas.

_Cas isn’t the liar. Cas isn’t the one who hides things. Cas isn’t the one who hurts other people._

_That’s me._

_It’s not that the ghost of John Winchester in my head that makes me feel like shit, makes me do shitty things. He’s not the reason I’m less than shit. It’s me. It’s always been me._

Before the horrible thought could translate into words or actions, there was a hand gripping the front of Dean’s t-shirt, pulling him up, the cloth binding so tightly it cut into his throat, restricted his breathing. Blue eyes like bitterfrost seared Dean to the bone.

“What did I say last night?” whispered Jimmy with murderous calm.

“Do it,” demanded Dean. “Whatever you’re thinking, _do it_.”

“I’m fine, Jimmy,” Cas said, winded, rising awkwardly and taking labored breaths. “It’s okay, Dean. I know you didn’t mean to.”

“Yes I did,” Dean lied. “I’m John Winchester.” He laughed mirthlessly, thick with self-hatred. “I’m just like my fucking dad. Just do it, Jimmy.”

_Now they’ve seen me._

Jimmy grip twisted, constricting Dean’s breathing further, and Dean’s throat burned. Cas came up behind Jimmy, laid a hand on his brother’s shoulder. With disgust, uncertainty, anger, frustration, evident in every feature, Jimmy let Dean go as if removing a hand from something filthy.

“Get out,” said Jimmy quietly.

Grim triumph brought a vicious smile to Dean’s face even as his heart cracked. He’d finally done it, pushed too far, and driven them to hate him as much as he hated himself.

“It’s been real,” he said with false nonchalance and slid off the counter, walked towards the front door. His leather jacket and boots were back in their usual place, the twins must have cleaned up the scattered clothes they’d tossed around when they’d striped each other the previous night. The world lurched agonizingly.

_I came home last night. I woke up at home this morning._

“Sit down, Dean,” Cas said with utter self-command.

_And then I tried to explain myself, and it all went to hell like I knew it would. I should never have gotten into this relationship._

Relationship. The word burned through his body like acid.

“Go fuck yourself, Cas,” suggested Dean, jamming his feet in his boots. His vision of the room fractured and cracked. “Better yet, go fuck Jimmy. You two don’t need me.”

_Don’t want to leave, don’t want to lose them, love them, want this, this is home, this is great, this is the best thing that’s ever happened to me._

_I am John Winchester and I will ruin their lives just like he ruined mine._

“Dean. You will follow my orders. You will listen and you will sit down. Now.”

The imperative in those words was undeniable, the voice of command that Cas used when he was domming Dean. Cas was not asking him, not suggesting, not dancing delicately around the point. He was insisting, and the dark promise of consequences danced behind the words.

Dean could think of no consequences worse than what would happen if he walked out that door for the second time in two days.

“Now, Dean,” barked Cas.

Despite every warning in his head, because of every warning in his head, Dean did as he was ordered.

_How many chances will they give me? How many chances did I give John? One too many, as it turned out. I can’t let that happen to them._

The atmosphere in the kitchenette was fraught with tension. Cas’ expression was utterly neutral and completely unreadable. His eyes were hard as ice as he stood in the center of tiled floor watching Dean’s every move. By contrast, Jimmy was an open book, face flushed red with fury, hands shaking as he restrained himself. He leaned against the counter where Dean had been sitting moments before, glowering vengeance and punishment. A chill shivered down Dean’s spine as he took the chair, feeling like a child confronted by two furious adults. Their anger intimidated him more than he’d ever admit, reminded him of his father in all the worst possible ways.

_This is what I deserve._

“What just happened?” demanded Cas.

“I fucking hit you like the son of a bitch I am. Jimmy tried to strangle me and I decided to fucking leave but you ordered me back and for some godforsaken reason I listened.” Dean folded his arms over his chest and rattled the words off blithely.

_I pushed you and hurt you and proved once and for all what a worthless excuse for a human being I really am and I’m so, so sorry._

Cas’ eyes narrowed shrewdly. “That. Just now. What just passed through your head, Dean?” Dean stared petulant defiance. Cas slammed a hand on the table, making the whole flimsy thing rattle. Despite himself, Dean flinched and grimaced, staring at the floor before him. There was a stain on the tiles. He should mop. “Tell me!”

“I’m just like my dad,” he admitted reluctantly. “Like I’ve told you all along, this’ll never work. Now you know why. Let me leave. I’m not capable of giving you everything you deserve.”

“Then why’re you crying, Dean?” asked Jimmy disgustedly.

Shocked, Dean raised a hand to his face, felt the moisture there. He was, he really fucking was. What was the matter with him?

“I’m sorry, Cas,” he whispered. “I hurt you....I just...it’ll happen again. I should go.”

“That’s why you’re not your father,” said Cas angrily. “Did he ever apologize to you? Did he ever suggest he’d done anything wrong?”

“You’re the one who told me that an abuser will say anything to get what they want,” muttered Dean. 

“That’s not an answer,” Jimmy snapped.

“Come on, Jimmy, you know I’m right on this one,” Dean countered.

“I know that today you’ve shared more than I’ve heard from you in 15 damn years,” said Jimmy. “It must be hard as shit for you, and I’m willing to cut you the slightest bit of slack as long as Cassie wants to try and provided that you never lay another fucking finger on him again except to give him pleasure.”

Scowling, Dean hunched further in on himself, dropped his arms to his knees, clasped his hands before him, and stared through them while appearing to stare at them. An unspeakably disgusting thought suggested that the way to end everything once and for all would be to raise a hand to Cas right now. Jimmy would clock him and kick him out, and there’d be no coming back. He’d not let himself come back. His stomach roiled at a series of horrific images: bruises on Cas’ body put there by Dean’s own hand; Cas making excuses for Dean’s behavior as Dean had always made excuses for John’s; Cas ashamed of himself and somehow convinced that Dean’s behavior was Cas’ fault; Cas believing there was anything he could do to prevent Dean from being _Dean_. Bile burned at his throat and he swallowed hard to force it back down.

Silently, calmly, Cas walked to Dean, knelt before him, looked up into his eyes. Jimmy trailed behind his brother, a protective guard dog, arms folded angrily over his chest, a vicious frown painting his face as he watched Dean with narrowed eyes, his body tense with preparedness to move at any moment if he had to stop Dean from hurting Cas. Watching Jimmy was like seeing a mirror of how Dean had postured to defend Sam from John’s aggressive moods. Blinking back tears, Dean tried and failed to avoid the bright-eyed, earnest look that Cas was directing at him. A faint smile curled Cas’ mouth.

“Tell me what happened,” said Cas with gentle authority. “What did my mother and I overhear that night?”

“I told you,” Dean muttered, “I was a fucking whore.”

“So you let women bang you for money?” Jimmy managed to sound amused by the idea, despite the strained, stressful vibe filling the kitchen.

“Who said anything about women? Why do you think I give such good head?” Dean mimicked his levity, but bitterness spoiled the effect.

“Dean,” Cas’ began worriedly, hesitating. The ludicrous fact that _Cas_ was evidently concerned about _Dean_ after everything that had happened only made Dean feel worse. “You were, what, 15? And you were letting adult men…?” Cas swallowed. “You were selling your body?” Though Jimmy maintained his furious façade, his cheeks had a faint green sheen, and he gulped and averted his eyes.

_Disgusting, son. Can’t believe my boy is a fucking whore. You let them bend you over? You let them pound that bony ass of yours? You let these douche bags bang you? It makes me sick to even look at you._

“I was always at Harvelle’s, cause dad was always at Harvelle’s.” The words dragged free of Dean, morose and quiet. “At first I was so young I didn’t even know what they wanted. ‘Pretty eyes, boy, pretty mouth, wanna help a brother out? I’ll give ya five bucks.’ We weren’t so fucked that I was going to let a stranger give me five bucks. No one gave something for nothing. Later, I knew what they wanted, but I had too much pride to consider it. We were desperate, but that was disgusting, and we’d manage somehow.” He laughed bitterly. “The mortgage was paid off – my grandparents left the place to mom and dad when they died – but we still had property taxes. Dad was on a particularly long bender, and I’d been pawning shit and stealing groceries to make sure there was food on the table. One day, a suit knocked on the door, and for a fucking miracle dad answered. The guy explained that if we didn’t pay our back taxes to the city they were going to evict us and sell the property against the debt.

“All I could think was that it was our fucking _home_ , it was _Sammy’s_ home. Where would we go if we lost the house? I thought dad would deal with it – I still believed in him back then, what can I say, I’m a fucking moron – but he just went back to the couch and drank himself into a stupor. The next day, too, and the next. The only thing left of any fucking value was the TV, and dad told me if I tried to pawn it he’d kick me out. I was too young to get a job.” There was a question was bright in Cas’ eyes, and Dean swallowed back a nauseous wave of self-disgust and admitted, “I was eleven. If John wasn’t going to do something about it, that meant I had to. I thought of those guys at Harvelle’s. All I had to do was swallow what little pride I had left and swallow whatever they shoved in my mouth. All I had to do was give them what they wanted, and I’d get what I needed. It was easy to find guys who were interested, but I did negotiate a salary raise, ten bucks instead of five. I managed to raise a couple hundred dollars, just enough to keep the city off our backs that first month, and the next, and the next.

“Ellen knew, of course.” Dean’s voice was flat and emotionless, his mind as blank as it had gone when some ass would grab the back of his head and hold him in place as they abused his mouth and throat mercilessly. “As soon as I hit my first growth spurt and could pass as a few years older than I was, she put me behind the bar and paid me under the table until she could hire me legally. It didn’t matter. Adding bartending on top of whoring still didn’t earn enough, but for once I was making a little fucking headway – paying more than was added each month – and that was something. Even better, tending bar helped me meet customers.”

“Dean—”

“Just lemme finish, Cas, okay? Can I do that?” Dean interrupted desperately. He closed his eyes against any reply, against the sympathy on Cas’ face, against the way Jimmy’s anger had given way to horror. Cas really had never told him. “When I hit high school, I picked up third job at the gas station, and I…I sucked less cock.” He heard Cas gasp to hear it put so bluntly, and the sound nearly broke him. _Now_ they knew how tainted Dean really was. Wasn’t that just swell. “I hated doing it, hated the way it made me feel about myself, hated when some asshole suggested how much more they’d pay to pop my cherry, hated that I actually fucking considered it cause we were that fucked. We were doing okay. I didn’t have to keep doing it. Until, not for the first time, dad found where I’d stashed my savings and he blew everything I’d earned for a fucking _month_ on some hooker’s bed and a mess of booze he’d just piss out the next day. Not like the city would give a shit that _that_ was why I couldn’t pay them. I needed the money, so I returned to the world’s oldest profession. That’s when John caught me. That’s what you saw. Congrats, Cas, you walked in on the worst night of my life and as a result it became _even worse_. Want a fucking medal or something?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” breathed Jimmy.

“Yeah, I tell all my friends about my history as a fuckable mouth for hire,” said Dean sarcastically.

“Cas, _why didn’t you tell me_?” Jimmy repeated. “If I’d have known—”

“What, Jimmy?” Cas snapped? Dean opened his eyes to see Cas looking up at his brother intensely. “How could you have improved the situation? Mom knew, and instead of suggesting that we help Dean, she decided he was a criminal and that you and I mustn’t have anything to do with him. I had no idea how you’d react, and I wasn’t going to risk telling you just to have to listen to you blame him, too.” Jimmy opened his mouth angrily. “Obviously I didn’t think you’d condemn him for homosexuality like she did, but all the rest? I wouldn’t take the chance. Dean already had it so hard, and I was so _helpless_ to do anything to make his life easier. The least – the very least – I could do was protect his secret.”

“ _That’s_ why you didn’t say anything?” blurted Dean.

“Of course,” said Cas, startled, looking back to Dean. “Why, what were you thinking?” Dean colored.

“You’re a fucking saint, you know that?” Dean muttered. “I don’t get you.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Seriously, not even a little,” Dean confessed. “Never have, never will. You got the brunt of all my shit, you saw my bruises, you heard the things my dad said, you knew about…everything…and you stayed my friend. Cas, is there _anything_ I can do that you won’t forgive? Cause that’s busted, man. You gotta realize you can do better.”

Instead of answered, Cas laid hands on each of Dean’s tear-streaked cheeks, palms cool and soothing against his heated flesh. It was so unexpected he flinched, so welcome that he leaned into Cas’ touch, reveled in it even as his thoughts rebelled and reminded him of what he did and didn’t deserve. Drawing Dean down and forward, Cas brought their lips together gently, and Dean suppressed a mewl of longing into a faint whine.

The kiss broke off, and Dean watched Cas wide-eyed, wondering what was coming next.

 _What do I have to do to get him to stop believing in me?_ His thoughts were thick with amazement and confusion. Dean knew exactly how to get Jimmy to hate him – all he had to do was hurt Cas – but if Cas had a trigger to turn him flat-out nasty Dean had never found it. As soon as Dean’s actions started causing Cas sadness, Jimmy acted like a normal fucking person and got pissed. Nothing rattled Cas, except apparently the idea of losing Dean. Cas was too impossible to be real.

“Why, Cas?” whispered Dean. “Why me?”

The hands on Dean’s cheeks trailed along the sides of his face, brushed over his temples, combed through his hair, and Cas drew their faces closer together, forehead to forehead, shadowed gaze pinning Dean.

“I’d give anything for you to see what I see when I look at you,” murmured Cas tenderly, carding his fingers through Dean’s hair. “I wasn’t there for you when I should have been, but I’m here now, and as long as you want me here, I’m never going to leave.”

“See, that’s exactly what I mean,” Dean said. “You don’t make any damn sense. You’ve always been there for me, Cas. You’ve always known what I needed, and you’ve always given it to me.”

“I wish that were true,” Cas sighed. “I don’t have the luxury of pretending it is, nor do I wish to do so. I was too worried about what I needed, too concerned with what you _thought_ you needed. I could have helped you, and instead I kept quiet.” Cas rubbed tears from beneath Dean’s eyes. “All through high school you projected such a casual attitude, Dean Winchester, not a care in the world, a leather jacket and a classic car and a favorite spot to make love to cheerleaders behind the bleachers. I was the only one you let see beneath that mask, but you always seemed so upset when _you_ peeked out that I never pushed for more; instead, when you gave me glimpses, I retreated, I looked away, because I thought that was what you wanted.”

_What do I have to do to get them to see me?_

“It was—”

_If they see…_

“I let you think that all I cared about was that surface, let you think I was disgusted by your bruises and the scars I could see crisscrossing your heart,” Cas spoke over him. “It wasn’t until I was older and I realized that you could have gone into a bathroom stall to change – you must have done during football practice. You let me see those bruises because you wanted me to. It wasn’t until I was older that I realized that your behavior was the equivalent of anyone else screaming for help. I loved you because you saw _me_ , not the choir boy, not the teacher’s pet, not my family name. I loved you because you took care of me even when I couldn’t ask for help, not because you wanted praise but because you cared enough about me to inconvenience yourself. I loved you because you stood up for me even when I wouldn’t stand up for myself.You deserved a friend who saw _you_ , Dean, deserved a friend who did all those things for you just as you did them for me, because you’re wonderful and you deserve _everything_. Instead I balked when confronted by the pleading in your eyes that said _don’t look_.”

_Please don’t look, Cas. Please don’t see my crimes, please don’t see my dirt, please don’t see my sins. Please don’t see that I earned every hurt, deserved every blow, had every cruel word coming to me. Please don’t see that all of this happened because even when I tried my hardest, I was never good enough._

“There’s nothing you could have done, Cas,” said Dean. “There was nothing either of you could have done.”

“We could have tried,” said Cas.

“That’s bull, Cas, you _did_ try,” Dean said stubbornly. “You ignored your mom when she said not to hang out with my filthy ass. You didn’t tell anyone what you knew. You hung out with me. You came to the gas station, got me through my shifts. You saved me, Cas.”

“I should have,” Cas said, eyes dazzling as they swam with tears. “I should have grabbed you and pulled you out of the hell that was your life, never let you go home, had you get Sam and taken you both to the church. The pastor could have found someone to look after you, and you’d have been free from John. I could have talked to Ellen Harvelle, found someone who could have taken you in. I could have confronted John, made it clear that you had friends prepared to defend you from his abuse. I could have called Social Services, who wouldn’t have separated you and your brother unless they absolutely had to, not at your ages. I could have done the research and told you that it was possible to declare your independence at 16 and take Sam with you. There were _so many things_ I could have done. Instead, I treated you the same way everyone _except_ you and Jimmy always treated me, the way I _hated_.”

“So, what, now you think you owe me?” Dean snapped gruffly. “You don’t. I don’t want your pity, Cas. Why would _you_ owe _me_ shit?”

“Because on the first day of class, when the whispers among the girls that I was cute were rapidly fading in the light of Rhonda Hurley’s report of what a goody toe-shoes I was at church and what a privileged background I came from, when I kept repeating to myself that all I had to do was keep my head down and get through the next four years and then I could leave Lawrence, you came up to me, sat at the desk next to mine, and said, ‘hey, my name’s Dean, who the fuck names their kid Castiel?’ ” Cas was smiling at the memory, but Dean smirked. He hadn’t remembered what he said. He’d only remembered he’d seen the gorgeous, lean, blue-eyed boy, seen the intellect and exasperation and resignation in his eye, and known he had to find some way to be the boy’s friend, had to be part of Cas’ life, had to bring a smile to those beautiful eyes, had to get their lips together. “So I told you, and you were like, ‘wow, Cas, that sucks.’ I was in awe. In your tone, in the way you shook your head and smiled, rolling your eyes, I could tell that you just _knew_ that I wasn’t dressed like that cause I liked it, and I didn’t go to church cause I wanted to, and that even though I said all the things that were expected of me, I wasn’t happy. The only other person I’d ever known who looked and actually saw _me_ was Jimmy.” He paused and grinned. “The fact that you’re gorgeous didn’t hurt.”

“Come on, Cas—”

“I wanted you so much,” Cas breathed. “How could I get Dean Winchester to notice me? By being whatever he needs, of course. So I watched you closely, and tried to be what you wanted. That was how I interacted with everyone else – figure out what they expect of me, who they want me to be, and be that – and I tried to do the same with you. Yet, with you, it didn’t work at all. Sure, we hung out all the time, you were my best friend, the only real friend I’d ever had other than my brother. Despite that, sometimes I felt like I didn’t know you at all. You didn’t invite me to your house, didn’t want to come to mine. You let me come to you with my problems, but you never came to me with yours. It took a year before you introduced me to your brother, even though you’d met my whole family by then. And sometimes, I’d catch glimpses – you’d look so sad, so lonely, so vulnerable, but I knew how hard you tried to look strong, and so I never said anything. I thought, if I just waited long enough, if I made it clear that you could trust me, if I just behaved as you wanted me, you’d eventually come to me on your own, but you never did. It was easy to convince myself my feelings were unreciprocated, especially when you started dating any girl who asked you. So I kept my crush a secret, shared it with Jimmy, and the two of us did…what we did.” Cas went crimson with embarrassment, and Jimmy flushed, self-conscious in a way that Dean hadn’t seen the previous day, when Jimmy had seemed almost upsettingly comfortable discussing his sexual history with his brother.

“After school, I stayed in Lawrence even though my whole life I’d dreamed of leaving and getting away from my family,” Cas said. “Jimmy was in California – but you were in Kansas. Not being with him left a hole in me so big I could hardly stand it. We’d been sharing a bed for eight years when he left for Stanford; I hardly slept the first few months of freshman year. The room was so empty without him, I’d phone him in the middle of the night just to hear his voice, just to ease the longing in my heart, hear the same longing echoed back at me from halfway across the country.” After listening in still silence for so long, Jimmy moved, knelt behind his brother, wrapped his arms around Cas and lay his head on Cas’ shoulder, peering up at Dean as well. Cas shuddered, let his eyes slip shut for a moment at the pleasure of physical contact, before he continued. “I thought it would be alright, because even if I didn’t have Jimmy, I had you, but there was too much distance between us and we only grew further apart as we got. It was easy to convince myself that you were never going to feel about me the way I felt about you, and my ever-growing guilt that I’d never done a thing to help you, that it was too late for me to do so, made it harder and harder to be around you. If I couldn’t help you, I might as well leave and take care of myself. It was selfish and cruel and I’ve never forgiven myself for abandoning you.”

“You didn’t—”

“Dean,” Cas said firmly. “I let you wax eloquent on your perception of events, even when I knew them objectively to be untrue or inaccurate. Do me the courtesy of allowing me to do the same. You asked me what I see in you, you asked me why I feel I owe you, and I’m telling you. My years away from you, when we Skyped and hung out at holidays but otherwise didn’t meet, gave me the perspective to figure out where I’d gone wrong. You’re so self-effacing. The privacy and secrecy you ostensibly sought weren’t actually what you needed, they were simply all that you thought you were entitled to have. I’d seen your bad boy exterior, envied and loved your confidence, bravery, work ethic, intelligence, sportsmanship, tenderness, loyalty, but when you showed me your weakness and vulnerability, I ignored them. Just like everyone else in your life, I acted as if how you _actually_ felt and what you _really_ experienced were irrelevant. Instead of acknowledging your feelings, giving them the weight and attention they deserved, I marginalized them. I thought I abandoned you when I left Lawrence, but really, I abandoned you in the locker room the day after I saw you and John outside Harvelle’s. That’s when I learned the truth, that’s when I could have said, ‘Dean I see you and I will help,’ and instead I let you think that I was just like everyone else, that I didn’t want you after I discovered that you were beautifully, flawlessly, perfectly human.

“After John died and you decided to move to California, I was shocked,” Cas confessed. “When you knocked on my door and still wanted to be my friend, I was even more amazed and grateful. Finally, I was an adult and I could be there for you as I should have been all along. Having you around again just reinforced all the feelings that seven years apart hadn’t cooled. You could have been angry with me for how I treated you, but instead you were true to me such as I was never true to you.” Cas tipped his head forward, drawing Dean with him, and kissed him again. “Why do I love you, Dean? How could I not love you? Since the very beginning you’ve been there for me, you’ve seen past my actions and words to my heart to give me what I _really_ needed, and you’ve forgiven me every mistake I’ve ever made. You’ve done for me everything you _think_ I’ve done for you, when in truth I let you down at every opportunity when I could have proven myself worthy of you. At least, the least three and a half years, I’ve been able to start to make amends, start to give you what you deserved all along.”

“You were just a kid, Cas.” Dean lifted a trembling hand, brushed through Cas’ tousled hair.

“So were you,” Cas said gently.

“I never was,” Dean’s answer was automatic and unequivocal and the complete, unvarnished truth. Dean’s childhood was sacrificed on the altar of Mary’s death, John’s alcoholic incompetence, and making sure that Sam didn’t have to go through all the same shit that Dean dealt with every day. His hand fell away to lay limply in his lap once more.

Everything Cas said was unbelievable, the exact opposite of what Dean thought. It was inconceivable that Cas saw their past so differently, inconceivable that Cas could know so much of Dean and yet still see so little of the truth. There hadn’t been some great, untapped store of sensitivity and humanity beneath Dean’s leather jacket and football uniform. Underneath his bad boy attitude, Dean was no one.

Cas guided him into another kiss, and Dean felt numb, unable even to reciprocate.

“What’s the matter?” murmured Cas with concern.

There weren’t even words to answer that question. What _wasn’t_ the matter? How could Cas think that Dean didn’t deserve _him_? It was like he’d stepped into the twilight zone. Next thing he knew, Rod Serling would walk across the kitchen waxing philosophical on the human condition or some shit.

 _I can’t keep living with secrets from them. I can’t keep wondering what will happen when they finally know everything. I can’t keep living on borrowed time. No more secrets. No more omissions. All or nothing. Show them everything, and pray that they can accept it. Show them everything and finally know that they can’t. If they’re going to go, I need them to just_ go _already, before I reach the point that I can’t bear to exist without them._

“I killed John.”

_I can’t bear to exist without them._

The world flashed black, his stomach churned, he panted as if he were sprinting his hardest.

 _As long as there’s a single secret, there will always be a wall between us, there will always be a voice that whispers_ ‘if they only knew the truth.’

Kneeling before him, Jimmy and Cas stiffened before him, rigid with tension, nearly indistinguishable with quirked heads and confusion.

_If I’m ever going to get to have this, I have to tell them everything._

“I killed my dad.”

_I want this. I need this. Please Cas…please Jimmy…don’t stop believing in me now…_

“I don’t understand,” said Cas, drawing away from him to lean back on his heels, drawing Jimmy with him.

_I can’t do this anymore._

“The obit said he died of liver failure,” Jimmy’s voice was thick with confusion. He slid his hands down to rest loosely around Cas’ waist, casual familiarity and intimacy that Dean envied. The distance between him and them had never felt more unbridgeable.

 _I need them to love_ me _, not whatever bullshit masculine ideal I’ve been trying to project since I was eight._

“Yeah, well, that’s bull,” grunted Dean. His vision swam, showing him four of the twins, then only one, and he drew in each breath desperately, let it out as a quick huff. “I mean, that’s what he died of, but it’s not how he died. He’d been doing better, not drinking as much and I thought…I’m such a fucking idiot, he said all the same shit, and I fell for it all again, and was surprised _again_ when I came home and he was nursing a bottle of whiskey. The son of a bitch had no money, which meant he’d stolen mine, and I just lost it. Asked him what the fuck kind of _asshole_ steals from his own son when I’d been working my ass off to keep him fed and clothed for literally as long as I could remember. He was fucking pissed, told me I was disrespectful, selfish, ungrateful, all the same shit he always said to me, but I’d _had it_ and I didn’t back down. Got him so pissed at me that he took a swing, which he hadn’t done in years, not since I got tall enough to look him in the eye. Well, he wasn’t expecting me to catch the punch, or that I’d punch him back.” Dean was breathing so hard it was difficult to get the words out steadily, and his vision trailed streaks of black amidst the white counters and pale maple cabinets of the room. Cas’ face before him was distorted nauseatingly, and Dean couldn’t stand to look any longer, so he lowered his gaze, stared at the floor, which even distorted he at least knew was _actually_ white and black.

“You’ve got to understand, it was just a gut punch, he’d hit me like that so many times and I don’t even know what I was thinking. I didn’t think I’d hurt him bad. I mean, he fell, and he groaned, and _fuck_ , I thought, I was just like him, it was just like today.” The words choked in a harsh exhalation and a rush of sick in his throat that he barely swallowed back. He’d hit Cas. He’d _hit Cas_. Oh _God_. “But then he got up, he was back on his feet looking for the booze, and all I could think was, like father, like son, we might as well be in this shit show together. So I grabbed a bottle, and bet him I could drink him under the table. He gave me the cockiest shit-eating grin and said only a man could do that. _Finally_ , I thought, a way to show him that _yes_ I was a fucking _guy_ , using one of John’s own measures, right? What made John Winchester a man? Throwing his weight around and fucking putting me down and getting totally smashed. If I could out drink him, I’d have the fucking _trifecta_ , and I’d have turned it against him like I shoulda done ages ago.” The edges of his vision showed cloudy white, diaphanous, floating away. Somewhere in his mind screamed that something was wrong, but he couldn’t divert any attention from his narrative. He _had_ to tell his family the truth.

“Dean—” an alarmed voice interrupted. His eyes throbbed fit to burst from his skull, his lungs burned, and his head ached like it was going to explode.

“I _know_ , Sammy. It was a stupid thing to do, and fuck, did we drink a lot, and I was right, I _could_ out-drink his sorry ass. He passed out on the couch, and feeling damn smug I went upstairs to get some damn rest because unlike some losers I had to go to fucking _work_ in the morning.” Something gripped his arm. He pulled away violently and nearly planted on his face as up and down inverted. _Something’s wrong_. Of course something was fucking wrong. He’d hit Cas and killed his dad and fucking _hated himself_ and after giving everything for Sam, when his brother knew the truth he’d lose his family – his brothers, all three of them, Jimmy and Cas were family as sure as Sam. “I didn’t know, Sam, you gotta believe me. I mean, how many times did dad pass out drunk just like that? Four or five nights a week, every week, our whole damn lives. When I got downstairs the next morning, it was more of the same, with the added bonus that he’d thrown up, and wasn’t _that_ a fucking fantastic stink to wake up to? Except when I went to clean it up there was blood in the vomit. I called an ambulance, but it was already too late – ruptured spleen, liver failure, triggered like a fucking count down from the minute I hit him, but I didn’t mean to, Sam! I followed him to the hospital, and he fucking died while I watched, and I should have felt sad, should have felt angry, should have grieved, and instead I felt _relieved._ He’d been fucking right about my all along, I was a heaping pile of ungrateful, uncaring shit. But I swear, Sammy, I didn’t mean to kill him. You have to believe me. It was an accident. Please don’t go. I can’t be alone again, not like those last few days in Lawrence. I _can’t_. I’m not strong enough – I was never strong enough – and it’ll _never_ be alright.”

An urgent breath caught in his throat, his lungs labored desperately, his heart fluttered without actually seeming to pump, and his thoughts blanked in pain and nausea and guilt. Someone shouted his name, and then there was nothing. Exactly like he deserved.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI...I don't know much about Social Services and I don't know what the legal age of independence is in Kansas (I spent about 30 seconds googling before I gave up). I'm sorry if my references to those are way off base, I know most states the legal age is actually 18, but I went with it for story...feel free to con crit/correct me. :)
> 
> Oh, and apropos of nothing? "My baggage has baggage, and that baggage has baggage, it’s like a big nesting clusterfuck of baggage, like those fucking Russian dolls" might be my personal favorite line I've ever written. I cackle every time I see it. :)
> 
> Edited to add: Good news and bad news - I've decided not to post the last chapter tonight (7/20)...because I've been waffling but have finally decided to add smut. So, no story end tonight, but more smut...worth it, I hope?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm laughing helplessly over here...so, I love you guys...and I wrote up everything last night...and it got so long I decided to split it into two chapters again.
> 
> Again: everything is written. Just need to edit the last bit.

Something soft supported his back and legs, something hard and warm was beneath his head, something heavy was draped across his chest. A soothing sound, low and tender, whispered in his ear, a broken, aimless tune no less grounding for being a bit off key and discordant. Fingers combed through his hair. In the background, he could make out a fainter noise, a conversation maybe, but he couldn’t hear the words. He didn’t try very hard. Lying still and zoning out was nice, the body supporting his smelled pleasantly of musk and citrus, and Dean felt strange, simultaneously purged clean and immersed in fucking sewage. His eyes slipped open. One of the twins was looking down at him, frightened face breaking into relief as their eyes met.

 _Pretty eyes. So fucking gorgeous it’s a sin_.

The humming broke off. “Hey, Dean,” the voice named his support Jimmy. The arm around Dean’s chest tightened protectively, the hand on his head tensed, and Dean tried to read sense into the rapid flux of emotions dancing over Jimmy’s handsome face, but he couldn’t. Dean lay on the couch, nestled between Jimmy’s splayed legs, supported on Jimmy’s stomach, Jimmy’s arm around him.

_This is nice. But..._

“Hey, Jimmy,” said Dean, steeped in shame he couldn’t place. His thoughts felt washed out, and he couldn’t figure out why he felt like garbage, why his throat burned and his head was stuffed with wool and his body hurt. Recent events came to him piecemeal – there’d been a lot of sex, that was part of the ache, and they’d talked about...him. Splashes of the confessions he’d made returned, and his embarrassment deepened.

“How you feelin’, buddy?” asked Jimmy worriedly. There was a wariness to his eyes, and the arm around Dean tightened further, holding him down, as if Jimmy was afraid Dean would bolt as soon as Dean got his senses back.

Dean was giving the possibility serious consideration.

“Like shit,” muttered Dean. “Like shit needed to shit and so shit some more.”

“Ew.”

“Yeah.”

“If it helps, you still look smoking...” Jimmy gave him a half-hearted lewd grin, and Dean choked back another burst of shame. “Guess it doesn’t help.”

“Not really.”

“Would you like some water?” The hand on Dean’s head left, Jimmy shifting both their bodies as he leaned towards the coffee table, and returned bearing a sloshing cup. “And the answer is yes, by the way.”

“Yes,” Dean muttered obediently. Getting himself into a half-seated position with difficulty, Dean allowed Jimmy to hold the cup to his lips and trickle some cool water into his mouth.

_I told them about Harvelle’s. I told them about dad. I told them everything._

“Where’s Cas?”

_Countdown to eviction in three...two..._

“He’s on the phone with Sam,” said Jimmy. Dean choked on the water, spilling it down his shirt. “It’s not what you think,” Jimmy added hastily. “Not sharing anything you said. We’d never betray your trust like that. Cassie thought we should take you the hospital. I wasn’t so sure, and we compromised, figured we’d check with your brother to see if anything like this had ever happened to you before, and also give you some time to see if you woke up on your own. That’s all. Promise.”

“He’s awake,” Cas’ voice said tersely, words resolving into clarity as Cas stepped into the living room. He’d tossed a button up shirt over his undershirt, buttons done up unevenly, and he wore one sock. His expression was troubled as he listened to whatever Sam said in reply, lips quirked in a frown, eyes drooping. “I definitely will. Thank you, Sam. Sorry to have bothered you.”

Cas hung up his phone, pocketed it and hurried over to the sofa, only to stop short and stare. Jimmy looked to his brother, expression hard to make out from Dean’s position, but the arm around Dean never left, never relaxed from the reassuring tension that told Dean better than words could have that Jimmy had no intention of letting him go _anywhere_.

“How are you, Dean?” Cas asked. Taking a seat on the coffee table, Cas leaned over, expression heart-breakingly tender, and reached towards Dean, waiting for an indication that Dean would be alright with Cas touching him.

It was small comfort that despite all the shit that had left his mouth, the twins were still with him, caring for him. It was pathetic that they needed to.

 _They stayed_. _Maybe I_ do _get to have this._

“Crappy. I had a panic attack,” he muttered. “I fucking fainted.”

Why _did they stay?_

“Yeah,” said Jimmy, awe and worry sharing equal parts in his voice.

A cool, soothing palm on Dean’s forehead brushed his hair away, sparing a tender caress of fingers for Jimmy’s hand nestled amidst Dean’s hair. Jimmy broke eye contact with Dean exchange reassuring smiles with Cas, and then both brothers’ were focused on Dean once more. Mortified, he tried to sit up, but Jimmy refused to release his hold on Dean’s chest and Dean surrendered quickly. In his heart, Dean didn’t want Jimmy to let him go, didn’t want either twin to let him go. A flicker of John’s voice suggested that Dean was a selfish ass for wanting that, but a louder voice, his own, drowned it out.

_They know everything, and they’re still choosing me. Wow._

“Sam said it happened once before?” Cas broached tentatively.

“Yeah,” Dean confirmed. “Twice, actually. I had one last year after I broke things off with Alastair.” Cas’ expression went hard and flat as the name left Dean’s lips, and Dean wished he could take his words back. Generally, Cas didn’t care about Dean’s exs, any more than either of them cared that Jimmy had slept with half the Berkeley campus, but as far as Cas was concerned there was a special place in hell reserved for Alastair, and Dean tried to never bring him up rather than face Cas’ lingering wrath over the sadist’s treatment of him. The distance and anger on Cas’ face always felt aimed at Dean, even though he knew they weren’t. Despite knowing better, Dean blamed himself for how things had gone with Alastair, and when he saw the hatred on Cas’ face, it felt like Cas blamed Dean, too.

“Obviously, Sammy doesn’t know about that one,” Dean hurried on. “I was home at the time, woke up flat on my face in the bathroom, thought I might have broken my nose. You got there like ten minutes later, so you pretty much know the rest.”

_No secrets. No matter how hard it is, no more secrets._

“You didn’t say anything at the time,” said Cas, making an obvious struggle to relax.

“Figured I’d already been enough of a wuss,” Dean muttered. “Didn’t need to add freaking out and fainting to the list of embarrassing shit I confessed to then.”

“That was as hard for you as today has been, in its own way, wasn’t it,” murmured Cas gently, circling a thumb over Dean’s temple. The comfort the movement gave was undeniable, and affection battled disconcertingly with Dean’s mortification. His breathing hitched, his heartbeat picked up speed, and he grimaced.

 _No secrets. I will not keep things from them. If they haven’t left yet, they’re not going to. They’ve been telling the truth all along. I’m the liar. I have to find it in myself to be worthy of them. I_ have _to._

“The one that Sam’d know about was at the hospital the day dad…the day I…” He gasped desperately through his parched, tight throat, into lungs that refused to inflate. The white of the ceiling dissolved his vision.

Heavy weight settled over his middle. Firm pressure rested on his cheeks. Blue filled Dean’s vision, Cas leaning over him, hands holding Dean’s face steady, perfect, intense, confident gaze completely absorbing Dean’s vision.

“Look at me,” ordered Cas. With no desire to do otherwise, Dean complied. “Breathe with us, Dean. Can you do that for me?” Dean struggled to nod against the hands securing him. “Can you say the word?”

“Yes,” whispered Dean. In the moments he’d lost, Cas had climbed onto the couch and straddled him, and Dean could feel Cas’ chest press against his every time Cas’ breathed, feel Cas’ heart beating, feel Jimmy’s heart beating. Each time Jimmy inhaled behind him, Dean’s head rose, each time Cas exhaled before him, the smell of coffee and _Cas_ flooded Dean’s senses and brushed across his skin. “I’m okay,” he said, voice roughened and cracked.

“We’ve got you, Dean,” Jimmy murmured. “We’re not letting you go, not after everything you’ve been through.”

“It’s alright,” Cas continued. “Everything is alright.”

 _It is, isn’t it. Everything is alright_. _Wow._

“You don’t have to be afraid anymore,” Jimmy picked up the thread, the brother’s trading back and forth as if they’d rehearsed this.

“We know everything now, and we’re still here,” said Cas. “We’re not going anywhere.”

“You showed us yourself, all of yourself,” Jimmy said. “That was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“It’s more than either of us has done for you, but we will, promise. Once you’re feeling better, we will.”

“I’ve got some stories that’ll knock your socks of,” grinned Jimmy with a suggestive wink.

“It took a lot for you to trust us that completely,” Cas stroked his cheek gently. “I knew you loved us, but it was beautiful to _see_ and _hear_ that love in every shared confidence.”

Dean blushed, wishing there was any way he could avert his eyes. With three hands around his head, he was completely immobilized. Everywhere his gaze darted all he found was more blue watching him like he someone special, someone priceless, someone awe-inspiring, someone _loved_ , until he squirmed just to escape feeling like their eyes were fucking spotlights looking through him.

 _How can they look at_ me _and feel that way about what they see? After what I told them? How can they still not see? How can they still refuse to see? What if..._

“So we’re okay?” Dean asked nervously.

_What if..._

“As far as I’m concerned,” said Cas, smile widening.

 _What if that truly_ is _what they see when they look at_ me _? When they_ really _look at me?_

“We’re awesome,” agreed Jimmy. “As long as...” He trailed off ominously.

_They do see. They see the blemishes and the burns and the scars and the sins, and they forgive me anyway._

“I know,” Dean swallowed and averted his eyes from Cas, unable to look at him in his shame at his earlier behavior. “I’m so sorry, Cas. It’ll never happen again. I swear it.”

_My angels, rescuing me from my own, personal hell. I will never hurt you again. I could sooner rip my heart out of my chest with my bare hand than hurt you again._

“I know it won’t,” said Cas soothingly. “I’m to blame as well, I shouldn’t have—”

“No,” interrupted Dean.

“But—”

“No!” He shook his head so emphatically he tore it from their grips. “There is no ‘but.’ There is no circumstance under which what I did was okay. There is no excuse for hitting someone you love, ever. I mean, okay, like, if we’re in a horror movie and decking you is the only way to dislodge the brain slug attempting to possess you, fine, that’s one thing, but _any other time_ , I don’t _ever_ want you to make excuses for me when I step out of line.”

“Where do you come up with this shit?” marveled Jimmy. He shook his head, glancing skyward with a wry smile. A moment later all humor was gone as Jimmy fixed his brother with a hard look. “But he’s right, Cas. No one is allowed to hit you. Ever. Not even Dean. If that ever happens again, I’m ending this.”

“You won’t have to,” said Dean. “If I ever raise a hand to either of you, _I’ll_ end it.” There was a long silence, the difficult topic making rapport hard to come by. When Dean couldn’t bear to wait longer for one of them to break the impasse, Dean hesitantly continued, “so, based on...everything I said...any other relationship...stuff...we need to talk about?”

The smile that broke over Cas’ face was heavenly, lit his eyes to brilliant azure. Jimmy laughed, causing Dean’s head to bounce dizzily. “Woah there, Dean – getting a little ahead of ourselves, aren’t we?”

“Huh?”

“Are you my...are the three of us...are we boyfriends?” asked Cas with breathless excitement.

“Well, you know,” Dean went crimson, swept his gaze over the coffee table, bare save for a remote control and the cup resting on a coaster, looking anywhere than at the twins. “We’ve been screwing for 8 months. And, like, I’ve been exclusive since then...because I wanted to be...and I’ll own, I was starting to worry, cause it felt like something was missing...and then Jimmy joined in...and...and nothing is missing. You two, are, uh, kinda perfect. Kinda sorta really perfect. I thought, maybe, if you wanted to...a vocabulary upgrade was in order? And, like, maybe, a commitment?”

_Any commitment you want, angels – the rest of my life with the two most special, most wonderful, most caring, most important men in the world..._

The silence that greeted this statement was deafening, and lasted plenty long enough to convince Dean he was a complete fucking moron who had utterly misread the entire situation.

_...who of course are far too splendid to want anything of the kind with me..._

“My bad,” he mumbled. “Sorry, I—”

Lips met Dean’s, interrupting him. Cas settled atop him, resting partially on the sofa and partially on Dean, arms snaking between Dean’s neck and Jimmy’s chest. Jimmy’s arms wrapped around both of them emphatically, pressing three bodies as close together as they could be. Startled, Dean didn’t reciprocate the kiss at first, but in moments Cas’ passion drew him in. The urgency behind the way Cas’ lips worked against Dean’s, almost frantic, was irresistible, and much more candid and open in his desire than Cas usually was. The past day had shown Dean a vulnerable side of his angel that made him love Cas all the more, and he sank into the familiar kiss like returning _home_. Cas tried to draw away to catch his breath, but Jimmy held them both so close that they could barely move, and Dean realized with bemused amusement that Jimmy was holding Cas’ head in place, holding Dean’s in place, participating the only way he could since there wasn’t room for a third in the kiss. With a grin, Cas took the hint and returned to the gentle caress of lips on lips, urgency and desperation giving way to tender care and affection. The next time Cas broke it off, Jimmy’s hand slid to Cas’ chin, drew Cas’ head up, and Dean watched with growing arousal as the two kissed directly above him. He could feel Jimmy’s cock twitching against his back, feel Cas’ against his side.

Through it all, Cas’ breathing remained measured and steady, and Dean continued to match him, match them both, calm, comforted more than he could admit. Dean wrapped an arm around Cas waist and Cas sighed and eased closer against Dean’s body, leaking a needy sound against Jimmy’s lips. Jimmy hadn’t needed encouragement, but he took the noise as one anyway judging by the way he redoubled his efforts, leaning into Cas, both mens’ cheeks betraying every suck, every lick, every place a tongue explored, every time a jaw shifted to change their angle.

 _I could watch them do that forever_.

With a burst of clarity, Dean realized all at once why this worked, why he felt he could stay, why he felt he could have this. He loved them both more than he could believe, but they both were so wonderful, both deserved so much more than he could ever hope to give them. If Dean were in a relationship with _just_ Cas or _just_ Jimmy, it would fall apart, destroyed by Dean’s unending sense of failure and inadequacy. When it was the three of them, that fell away. Their relationship wasn’t about Dean having to be enough for both of them. Their relationship was about each of them giving what they could give, each of them filling in for what another couldn’t give. What Cas and Jimmy couldn’t get from Dean, they could get from each other. Even if Dean failed, they still had each other.

_Even if I fail, they will catch me when I fall._

With a happy grin, Cas broke away from his brother and slumped atop Dean. “I love you both,” he murmured, trailing a light touch along Dean’s chin, up his cheek, traced the curve of his ear, skimmed over to circle lightly on Jimmy’s chest. “This is amazing.”

Jimmy’s hold on them both convulsed almost painfully tightly. A tear splashed on to Dean’s cheek.

“All the secrets have been fucking killing me,” Dean murmured. “But now you two know the most crazy shit I’ve done, and you’re still fricken here, which can only mean you’re both as crazy as I am, and that’s cool I guess.”

“It’s very cool,” confirmed Jimmy with a cock-eyed grin oddly in perfect harmony with his swimming eyes. Cas wore a smile like Dean was the damn second coming or something, and as uncomfortable as it made him, Dean also kind of loved it, just like he loved everything about Cas.

“I’ll fuck up again, you know,” Dean added stubbornly.

“That’s not right,” Cas shook his head. Dean opened his mouth to interject, but Cas put a finger of his lips. “Dean, we forgive you, and we love you...”

“...no need to hesitate Cassie, we definitely love him...”

“...but we’re not under any illusions that you’re ‘fixed’ just because you told us all that,” Cas continued. “You suffer from depression, Dean, and anxiety, and self-esteem problems, all of which are entirely understandable given everything you’ve been through.”

“Fuck,” muttered Dean, “Dr. Novak rears his ugly head.”

“You knew my major when you started dating me,” said Cas, and actually stuck his damn, delicious, irresistible tongue out.

“We were never _dating_ ,” countered Dean, scowling.

“We are now,” said Jimmy.

“I think you should talk to Sam about your dad,” Cas said. “I know it’ll be hard, but it was obvious that you harbor a lot of guilt due to keeping it from him. He’ll understand, I know he will. We’ll help, if you want.”

“Maybe.”

Undeterred, Cas pressed on, “And I really think it’d do you good to see a therapist.”

“No.”

“There’s a free clinic in Oakland run by the department,” Cas persisted. “There are people on the staff that I don’t know, who I’m not in class with. There’s no chance anything you say will get back to me, and it won’t cost you anything. Seriously, Dean. You don’t have to keep dealing with all this alone.”

“I’ve got you two,” said Dean.

“That’s not the same,” disagreed Cas. “When you talk to us, you’ll always wonder how we’ll react. You’re invested in us, and we’re invested in you. There’s nothing like having a stranger to talk to, someone who cares about your health but otherwise has no stake in your life. It could make a real difference.”

There was a long pause.

“I’ll think about it,” said Dean reluctantly. Cas shot him another of those beatific smiles, and Dean managed a lop-sided grin back. “And…?”

“Well, there is one matter.” All levity disappeared from Cas’ voice, and Dean felt a horrible sinking in the pit of his stomach.

“There is something else very important we need to talk about,” Jimmy agreed solemnly, his expression unreadable. Dean turned towards Cas, to see him nodding grim agreement. His throat tightened. He’d read the whole thing wrong after all. Fuck, he was screwed. Was this about his only working part time, or maybe they didn’t want him staying there, or maybe something related to their scenes, or...

“I was thinking pizza,” Jimmy interrupted Dean’s rapidly cascading thoughts. “But this heathen here…”

“There’s a very real case to be made for Chinese,” Cas intoned. “My brother refuses to be swayed by clear and simple logic.”

“It’s all on you, Dean. Tie breaker. I know you’ll make the right choice.”

“You two are going to kill me,” Dean groaned. Matching grins assaulted him from either side.

“You know you love it,” smirked Jimmy.

“Yeah, I do,” said Dean, more emotion suffusing his words than he’d meant to betray. They were a tangled mess of firm flesh pressing firm flesh, arms locked together and holding them close, interwoven legs, and it was _awesome_. “Pizza. Cas, you pick the toppings.”

_Nowhere has felt like home since I was a kid, but this feels like home. Anywhere they go is home._

“A fair compromise.”

_I’m such a lucky bastard._

“Oh no, Dean, what are you thinking? We’re going to end up with something weird. Like that time Cassie ordered sardines and pineapple?”

_Every time they smile..._

“You ordered that one.”

_...every time they laugh..._

“It was inedible.”

_...every time they show me more of they are both really are..._

“It was _your idea_ , Jimmy.”

_...I love them that much more._

“Pizzasaurus has this deal where they order sweet and sour chicken from the Chinese place down the street and put it on a pizza.”

_Forever. I want this forever._

“Sounds like the best of both worlds to me.”

_Is it possible that’s what they want, too?_

“Don’t tell me they use the sweet and sour sauce in place of tomato sauce, that sounds nauseating.”

_I think it is. I really think it is._

“Then you don’t have to eat any.”

  _Wow._

“For fucksake…look, crust, tomato sauce, cheese, and, like, pepperoni or something. Bam. Pizza. What’s so hard about that?”

_What do I even do with that?_

“Dean, do you mind the sweet and sour chicken pizza?”

_Nothing._

“Sounds awesome.”

_I don’t have to do anything._

“Decision made.”

_That’s the most amazing part._

“ _What_?”

_All they have to do is be here, and I feel better._

“I’m ordering now.”

_All I have to do is be here, and they’ll stay with me._

“Doesn’t my opinion count for _anything_?”

_What do you say to that, John fucking Winchester?_

“Just shut up and eat it, and I’ll blow you tonight.”

_It’ll never last, right?_

“I like the way you think, Winchester.”

_True love dies._

“No you don’t, you just like the way I give head.”

_Mary died._

“No, I _love_ the way you give head. No one’s ever sucked me off like you do, Dean. Not even my brother.”

_Dad’s life doesn’t have to be my life._

“Do you two _mind_? Can’t you see I’m on the phone?”

_I’m not my dad._

“Don’t mind at all, Cassie. You do what you’ve got to do.”

_I’m not John Winchester._

“You know, I used to pay for pizzas with BJs. We could offer.”

_I’m Dean..._

“I’m talking to a _woman_ , Dean!”

_...and I deservethis._

“Quit bitchin’ and order the pizza, Cassie. I need your mouth on mine, like, five minutes ago.”

_Yep. Absolutely perfect. I’m home. I’m finally fucking home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh...hope the way I formatted the end bit there isn't too annoying. I didn't want to break up the flow by having to write "X said" and "Y said," and I thought it was pretty clear who said what, but of course I would think that, since I wrote it. Please lemme know if it doesn't work or is confusing, I'll change it.
> 
> On to the smut! :) I'll edit it up over the next few hours and post it tonight. :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for bearing with all the angst. Here, have a 7,500 words of smut as my thanks. :)

The pizza box was empty. Jimmy ate nearly as much as Dean and Cas combined, complaining about what a weird combination of flavors it was even as he inhaled slice after slice. The conversation over dinner had been wonderfully irrelevant, and though there was still an edge of tension in the air – things still had a ways to go before they felt normal and natural again – there was now at least a sense that things might return to normal soon. At Cas’ insistence, Dean had been downing water like his life depended on it, which mostly meant he had to use the bathroom every fricken half-hour, a schedule that happened to coincide precisely to the intervals at which Cas was icing Dean’s swollen knuckles. Being babied and coddled was endearingly irritating.

Really, it was impossible to stay annoyed with either of them about anything at the moment.

The feeling wouldn’t last. The usual whispers warned Dean of all the ways things could go wrong. There would be still be mornings to come when he’d wake up unable to believe this relationship was real. There would still be days when he’d forget all the proofs that Cas and Jimmy had given him of their affection and belief that they refused to see him, couldn’t accept him. There would still be days he’d lash out, unable to accept that which was freely given him. He tried not to let the prospect of all the ways he’d find to fuck up in the future scare him. There was an essential truth underneath it, and he understood implicitly that it was the most important piece, the only thing he really had to make sure he hung on to, clung to, as inviolable truth.

No matter what happened, it wouldn’t mean they loved each other any less.

_Forever is for children. Forever is for rom-coms. Forever is for lonely housewives. Forever is for books with beefy blondes in kilts on the cover. Forever is for fantasies._

Seeing the way Cas’ eyes lit up every time they fell on Dean drove such thoughts away. Hearing the tenderness in Jimmy’s voice even when he delightedly attempted to push every button Dean had drove such thoughts away. That was the same look, the same tone, that both men had directed at him for 15 years.

_Even if it’s not forever, it’s enough for today. It just has to be enough for every single day._

The lamp was on, the muted TV played re-runs of Chopped, and Dean slouched into the couch cushions contendedly, his feet crossed on the coffee table, wonderfully surrounded. On one side, Cas lay slumped exhaustedly against Dean’s side, chest rising and falling with the even rhythm of sleep as Dean slowly, repetitively ran a hand along the curve of Cas’ back. On his other side, his eyes were locked with Jimmy’s, and each was running a single, teasing finger over the other’s inner thigh. Jimmy’s erection was growing steadily more firm and prominent, raising a tent in the loose linen pants he wore. Dean’s matching hard on was shielded by his jeans but only a little more subtle for that.

Lazy exploration brushed lightly over the stretched cloth, causing the enticing flesh beneath to twitch as Dean skimmed by and splayed his hand on Jimmy’s belly. Jimmy dropped his head back against the couch cushions and slid his hips forward, surrendering the initiative, letting his hand still teasingly close to Dean’s crotch. Determined not to disturb Cas’ rest, Dean did his level damnedest to ease Jimmy into needy arousal, rubbing at the slight curving swell of Jimmy’s belly, scraping finger nails through fabric as Dean gave attention to every perfect inch of Jimmy’s body. The soft cloth of Jimmy’s tunic top was ideal for adding tantalizing friction to every touch. Dean took his sweet time circling one nipple and then the either, touching neither yet drawing each into a hardened peak until Jimmy was panting, fingers tensing and relaxing against Dean’s thigh.

“You promised him a blow job,” Cas mumbled, words slurring together.

“I did at that,” Dean turned a cocky grin towards Jimmy, who missed it, his eyes closed, mouth open to release a whimper at the thought. “Ready to collect?”

“Yeah,” Jimmy drew the word out long as Dean finally took mercy on him and gently rolled a nipple between his fingers through the cottony soft abrasion added by Jimmy’s shirt. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

“Gonna have to move, Cas,” Dean suggested kindly, shifting the arm he had around Cas’ waist. He felt rather than saw Cas nod against his side. Cas shifted his weight to the other side slightly, and as Dean turned in his seat to face Jimmy and leaned forward, bending double to mouth at Jimmy’s cock through his pants, Cas moved with him, clinging to him, draping himself lightly over Dean’s back with a contented sigh. It would make administering the blow job more difficult – Cas was practically dead weight on top of him – but it was worth it to feel Cas’ all-encompassing warmth, to feel Cas rise and fall against him with every breath, to feel the early twinges of hardness in Cas’ pants. Unable to bring himself to protest, Dean wrapped his lips around the head of Jimmy’s dick and sucked at him through the cloth. Jimmy moaned, shimmied his hips closer to Dean’s face, and Cas’ cock gave a decided twitch against his back.

Sneaking a hand beneath Jimmy’s loose waist band, Dean wrapped a two-finger ring around the base of Jimmy’s cock even and he continued to mouth at the head through the cloth. A limp hand came to rest on Dean’s head – he thought it was Jimmy’s but he wasn’t sure – urging him deeper gently, caressing at the base of his skull. The feelings he’d largely ignored bloomed to life and Dean became exquisitely aware of his trapped cock, wedged at a painful angle by his pants and constricted by the way he held his legs. Fingers traced over Dean’s t-shirt, following the lines of his muscles, tugged the hem of his shirt up to lay cool touch against his heated skin. Dean stroked up on Jimmy’s cock as he lowered his mouth around it and started what he knew to be an inadequate rhythm, used a light touch, left the fabric between Jimmy’s need and Dean’s hot, wet mouth, until Jimmy was whimpering.

“Dean, you damn tease...” Dean hummed his agreement. “You know your mouth is awesome, don’t you?” Dean hummed again. “If I keep saying things you agree with will you keep doing that?” Again. “Was that a yes or a no?” By way of answer, Dean snagged the cloth of the pants with his teeth and drew it away. Jimmy’s cock was flushed red, thick, tip damp from saliva absorbed through the cloth. Dean wrapped his whole hand around that beautiful length and gave a loose stroke, rough with unlubricated friction. “I like the way you think.” Grinning, Dean watched with satisfaction as clear liquid oozed out of Jimmy’s slit, and Dean’s cock twitched and imitated that early release, liquid absorb into Dean’s boxers, as the whisper of desire grew louder and more insistent.

Cas slid up Dean’s back, reached his head over Dean’s shoulder, wrapped his lips around Jimmy’s tip, and sucked hard.

“Sweet mother of _fuck_ ,” gasped Jimmy, hips straining up towards Cas’ mouth. With a wicked grin, Cas drew away again and slumped back into place. “Dammit, Cassie...”

“I was saving that,” muttered Dean, continuing to stroke Jimmy’s shaft.

“He’ll make more,” giggled Cas.

There was no arguing with that logic. Jimmy would release more the more diligent Dean was in his attentions, and with that in mind, Dean began to stroke more firmly. Already, thicker liquid pooled amidst Cas’ saliva, and Dean felt buzzed on the realization that when he leaned down once more he’d taste both of them. The prospect was too enticing to resist, and Dean leaned down, wrapped his lips around the entire head at once, and swallowed hard. Flavors washed over his tongue, salty and sour, sweet traces of the sauce from dinner, the unique taste of Cas that Dean had never been able to put a name to but that always shot desire through him. Jimmy groaned and the hand around Dean’s neck tensed encouragingly.

With Cas’ weight on him, Dean’s range of motion was limited, but he didn’t need much to drive Jimmy wild. His mouth played over the head of Jimmy’s cock. Dean kissed around the raised ridge separating shaft and head, teased his tongue at the tip and licked at the divot at the base, scraped the faintest hint of teeth over sensitive flesh, and closed his lips over each every spot systematically and tenderly, lightly sucked. His hand pulsed an easy rhythm around the base, spit slicking the way. He loved the weight of Jimmy’s cock in his grip and pressing against his tongue and cheek. He loved the way Jimmy twitched under his ministrations, the way Jimmy trembled as he held his hips still in an effort not to thrust into Dean’s mouth. He loved the gentle circles Jimmy was tracing over his scalp. He loved the sounds that leaked from Jimmy’s mouth, half-articulated encouragement broken off in moans, “yeah...oh! Just like...Dean, your mouth...your fucking _mouth_...like, _fuck_ , your _tongue_ … _and_ your hand...fuck that feels...”

He loved Cas’ hand resting securely and comfortingly on his belly. He loved Cas’ heat and weight arched protectively over his back. He loved the slight rut of Cas’ hips putting the merest tantalizing pressure on his crack. There was no way he was up for anal that night, not after the morning and evening before, but that didn’t stop the teasing from driving him higher, didn’t stop the tingling slowly spreading through his skin or the insistent aching need in his cock.

There was nothing about this he didn’t love.

Slowly, gently, Dean used his mouth and hand to work Jimmy up, gradually increasing his speed and the pressure with which he sucked until Jimmy throbbed in his mouth on the edge of his orgasm. The cock straining against Dean’s lips felt glorious. Dean loved giving blow jobs to those he cared about, loved subverting skills he’d gained so unhappily and using them in the name of producing bliss. It made him feel valuable and worthwhile, made him feel like the sacrifices he’d made served a purpose, since he could use them to make Jimmy and Cas feel so good. A steady stream of pre-come leaked onto Dean’s tongue and he drank it down eagerly even as he backed off, slowed down, eased Jimmy away from the brink with languid strokes and tender kisses. Over and over again, Dean drove Jimmy to the edge and pulled him back, inching Jimmy closer to orgasm every time. Jimmy’s words gave way to panting, breathy moans and the occasional grunted complaint when Dean stopped short of giving Jimmy what he needed to achieve release.

Dean felt his own arousal as a throb behind his eyes, a burst of pleasure in his gut each time he swallowed, an ache in his crotch and ass that was increasingly difficult to ignore. Cas undulated his whole body enticingly against Dean’s back and ass, urging Dean on, and whispered in Dean’s ear, “I love watching you do that, Dean, you’re so good to us. I can tell how much you like doing it, and that’s so beautiful. I can’t believe how much you give, how freely you give it, how freely you give everything. I want you so much right now, want your arms around me, want your mouth on mine, want your lips on my dick, want to be inside you. Yeah, suck Jimmy down, just like that – it’s like I can feel you doing that to me, feel it everywhere, it feels so good. Feel like I’m burning up for you, Dean. Isn’t he making pretty noises? It’s because you love Dean, right brother?”

“Yeah,” gasped Jimmy. “I do – love you, Dean, love you, love you so much.” The words hit Dean powerfully and he took Jimmy deeper and groaned, sound reverberating through Jimmy’s desperate flesh. Jimmy moaned loudly, the sound trembling through Dean’s body until he thought he might be echoing it, Cas might be echoing it, it might be all three of them moaning as one. He squeezed his eyes shut against tears and began a steady up and down, lifting Cas’ weight each time, taking Jimmy into his mouth and throat as deeply as he could, dark pubes tickling his nose and lips.

“So strong, Dean,” Cas continued the irresistible litany in Dean’s ear. “So beautiful. Every part of you is beautiful, your body, your mind, your stainless soul, all of it is absolutely perfect, every imperfection adds up to make you perfect.” Lips brushed against his neck and the modest contact tingled sparks of heat down his spine, along his ribs, straight to his laboring heart. “What if I wanted to give you something I’ve never given anyone else?” Dean adjusted the angle on his head and swallowed Jimmy down, and despite all his efforts at stillness, Jimmy rolled his hips into the contact, scraping the back of Dean’s throat with his tip. Holding his breath as his lungs began to ache, Dean held still and let Jimmy move inside him, gasping and squirming and moaning at every slight change in pressure.

“What if I wanted you inside me?”

A huge groan tore through Dean and he gagged, pulled back and choked even as Jimmy shouted and came in Dean’s mouth and over his chin. Coughing raggedly, splattering Jimmy’s crotch with come and spit, Dean desperately tried to catch his breath as images flooded his mind.

_Cas on his hands and knees, Dean thrusting into him, Cas rocking back against him at every stroke, urging him deeper, urging him faster._

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Cas exclaimed, leaning back and dragging Dean upright as he continued to choke. Jimmy slumped into the couch, moaning his way through a second burst of pleasure that streaked semen over Jimmy’s shirt. Hands held Dean securely, easing him through convulsive inhalations. The world spun, and even his distress couldn’t quell the excited jerk of his cock at the new-found freedom of him sitting him. “I didn’t mean to...”

_Dean on his back, Cas straddling him, riding him hard, Dean’s hands on Cas’ hips begging him for him._

“Yes you did!” Jimmy wheezed.

_Cas bent over, ass thrust towards Dean, hands gripping the kitchen counter, sexed-out voice telling Dean precisely how he wants Dean to move, how fast he wants Dean to thrust, describing how he wants Dean to fill him._

“You serious, Cas?” Dean managed hoarsely, using the back of his hand to wipe his chin. Dizzy and disoriented, Dean took each breath slowly as he waited for his equilibrium to return. The way Cas was stroking his chest definitely did not help, nor did the drawn out pause with no response, leaving Dean alone with his fantasies.

_Fingers deep in Cas, working him open, slicking his hole. Cas taking it until he couldn’t wait any longer, Cas begging Dean to fill him...easing his way in to Cas’ tight hole, rocking Cas’ body back and sinking in as deeply as he can. Cas crying out as Dean finds his prostate, moaning Dean’s name, splattering come over Dean’s belly._

There was a hand on Dean’s crotch, lips on one of his nipples, his shirt was hiked up to his armpits, fingers cupped and massaged his breast, and a hot voice steaming sultry over his ear, “Would you like that, Dean?”

“Yes,” he whimpered. “God, yes, if you want me, Cas...if you want me, _fuck_ , please, let me fill you!”

A smack of lips and a rush of cool air marked Jimmy leaving off his attention to Dean’s chest. “You sure, Cas?”

“Can you get the lube, Jimmy?”

“Sure can,” Jimmy hopped up. The moment he was gone, Cas pressed into Dean, urged him through gentle pressure to lean back against the couch, positioned him with nudges and taps until Dean sat square, his thighs together, his feet on the ground. Satisfied, Cas straddled Dean and drew him into a deep, searching kiss, tongue lapping at the spit and come still pooled in Dean’s mouth.

“Tastes good,” Cas said breathily as he broke off the kiss. Dean barely had time for one deep inhale before Cas was back on him, kissing him eagerly, rutting his erection against Dean’s belly, rubbing his ass over Dean’s cock. Constant touch after the long neglect to Dean’s cock cascaded pleasure through his body, and at first he surrendered to the sensations, the joy of Cas’ lips on his, the rhythmic pressure on his cock, the warm glow of Cas’ presence and interest. More quickly than he’d have imagined, his fantasies combined with his horniness to leave him panting on the edge, and reluctantly Dean pulled back from the wonderful sensations rather than risk lasting approximately four seconds on the very first time he got to be inside his boyfriend.

“No!” gasped Cas as he broke off the kiss.

“Huh?” Dean breathed, confused.

“It’s okay, Dean,” murmured Cas, nibbling along Dean’s jaw line. “Don’t withdraw from me. I don’t need you to put on a performance. However long this lasts, I know it’ll be amazing.”

“Bull,” said Jimmy cheerfully as he returned, tossing the bottle of lube in the air and catching it. “First times are always rubbish. You’d know that if you weren’t a virgin.”

“I’m not a virgin,” said Cas defensively.

“Ever had a cock in your ass?” Jimmy replied pointedly. Cas flushed, and Dean blinked in amazement.

“I’m your _first_?” The sense that he had to do well for Cas’ sake multiplied several times over.

“I’ve been fingered,” Cas muttered, refusing to meet Dean’s eyes. Hastily unbuttoning his shirt as if he could use stripping as a distraction – not a bad theory, really – Cas shrugged it off and tugged his undershirt over his head, baring is chest.

“Trust me, it’s not the same,” said Jimmy to accompaniment of the lewd sound of lube squirting into his hand. “Drop trow, bro, I’m going to prep you.”

Nodding, a defiant gleam in his eye, Cas rose from Dean’s lap and lowered his pants, kicking them off. Dean used the opportunity to undo his jeans and, with a relieved sigh, he finally freed himself from the confines. Before he could remove his pants further, he suddenly had a lap full of Cas again, straddling him. Grabbing a hold of Dean’s cock, Cas smeared his hand in Dean’s pre-come and Cas’ own, grasped them both together in a wide grip and stroked gently. Fucking fireworks burst behind Dean’s eyes in uncountable shades of brilliant blue, and he groaned and slid his hips further down. Leaning forward, wrapping an arm around Dean’s shoulders, Cas caught Dean in a possessive, deep kiss, holding eye contact all the while, Dean so distracted by the was a predatory gleam in Cas’ eyes that he awkwardly bumped their noses together. The clinical knowledge that Dean should hold himself back into order to better serve Cas’ pleasure couldn’t compete Cas’ eager brushes over their cocks, the urgent working of Cas’ lips on Dean’s, or the way Cas used his entire damn body to push Dean closer and closer to the edge before the main event even started.

Their kiss broke off as Cas hissed. Dean could only partially tell what Jimmy did, view mostly blocked by Cas’ body, but he could see that Jimmy had taken a seat on the coffee table, one hand apparently resting on the small of Cas’ back, the other stroking up and down. Cas moaned and tightened his grip on their cocks, rising and falling slightly to rub them together, rising and falling in time to Jimmy’s attentions to him.

“One finger,” murmured Jimmy warningly, and Cas went stiff against Dean and froze. “I’m not sure this is a good idea, Cassie. You’re _very_ tight.”

“Do it, Jimmy.”

With a slight shrug, Jimmy raised his eyebrows and then caught his lip in his teeth intently. Cas quivered.

“How you doin’?”

“Feels good,” Cas whispered. “Always feels good when you do this to me.”

“We’re going to take care of you, Cassie,” Jimmy promised.

“Yeah,” echoed Dean. “We gotta be really careful, Cas, and you _must_ tell me if anything I do hurts you.”

“I will, Dean,” Cas vowed. Settling back on his heels, Cas drew away from Dean, breaking off their kiss, releasing their cocks to drape both arms loosely around Dean’s shoulders. Back ramrod straight, Cas’ eyes slipped shut, his head fell back, and the muscles in his legs twitched and visibly engaged as he lifted himself and then lowered himself onto the finger inside him. Jimmy went still, and Dean’s eyes went wide as he watched Cas effortlessly rise and drop again, again, again, fucking himself on his brother’s hand. Each time, their cocks rubbed together, and Dean felt helpless to do anything but stare, mustering only enough to settle his hands on Cas’ waist and feel the slight spasms of pleasure that quaked through Cas’ body as he moved. Taken as a whole, it was fricken _awe-inspiring_ sight: Cas’ lean, muscled chest flat before Dean, his mouth slightly parted against panting breaths, eyes open narrow to reveal blue overwhelmed by pooled black lust, the powerful ease with which he took what he wanted.

 _He’s going to do this to me. Exactly what he’s doing to Jimmy’s finger right now, Cas is going to do to my cock. Holy_ shit _._

Dean groaned, his cock twitched with anticipation each time Cas rose and fell, his mind conjuring up the feeling of tight muscles surrounding him, compressing him, massaging up and down his length. Slowly, Dean began to rub his hands along Cas’ sides, movements a down-and-up counterpoint to Cas’ up-and-down movements, and Cas moaned, low and guttural, at the feel of Dean’s rough hand against his deliciously smooth skin.

Stiffening abruptly, Cas’ body went still.

“Two fingers,” Jimmy explained helpfully.

“Thanks for the updates,” Dean huffed.

“My pleasure.”

“Would you shut up and prep me already?” Cas snapped.

“Always so demanding,” said Jimmy with a grin. Judging by the satisfied sound that rumbled in Cas’ chest, Jimmy did as he was told. Dean could hear the wet smack of lube-coated fingers thrusting in and out. Cas leaned towards Dean, tightening his embrace, and thrust his ass towards Jimmy, and Dean rubbed his hands over Cas’ sides, along the rippling muscles of Cas’ abs, down the soft skin of his belly, up his firm back, glorifying the feel of soft skin beneath his work-roughened hands.

“Beautiful, Cas,” he breathed. “You’re so fucking hot right now. Can’t wait to fill you up. Can’t wait to feel you all around me.”

“Three fingers,” demanded Cas.

“Cassie—”

“Now, Jimmy!”

Every muscle went rigid and Cas groaned as Jimmy obeyed. Dean could feel the quivering tension tightening Cas’ muscles and did his best to soothe Cas’ stress, palming and massaging. Jimmy leaned forward and peppered kisses along Cas’ shoulder and along the curve of his neck. “Order me around all you want, but I’m not letting you go so fast you get hurt,” Jimmy murmured in his brother’s ear. “I don’t care how much you want Dean’s dick, you’re not getting it until you’re good and open.”

“I’m fine,” gasped Cas. Suiting action to words, Cas settled back once more, leaving Dean feeling deprived by the small distance opened between them, and pressed down against Jimmy’s hand. “Wow...that feels...” Slowly, Cas lifted himself up, releasing a shuddering moan as he even more gradually was filled again.

“Yeah, I know,” said Jimmy tenderly. Catching Dean’s questioning look, Jimmy added, “First time I’ve ever done three.”

“Seriously?” Dean shifted nervously. “Cas, I don’t know about...”

“If you’re not going to say anything helpful, then be quiet,” snapped Cas authoritatively, and Dean moaned at the tingle Cas’ tone spiked through his gut. “It’s for me to say what I am up for and what I’m not, and I want to do this.”

“Fuck,” muttered Dean. “Not a scene, Cas...”

“Right,” Cas grunted, beginning to speed his movements as he chased pleasure on Jimmy’s hand. Sweat beaded on his forehead, created a thin layer of moisture slick beneath Dean’s hands as he ran them over Cas’ back, clutched at the smooth skin between Cas’ shoulder blades, brought them around to palm at Cas’ nipples. “We’re not. You don’t _have_ to do as I say.” A deep chuckle tangled with a groan to produce a sound that shouldn’t be fucking _legal_ , it was so sexy. “We both know that doesn’t mean anything, though. You _love_ obeying me, don’t you, Dean?”

Swallowing his answer, Dean nodded emphatically.

Brushing a kiss against Dean’s lips, tightening his grip around Dean’s shoulders, Cas whispered in Dean’s ear, “Nothing turns you on like doing as I say, right?” Dean nodded, knocking his nose against Cas’ cheek in his enthusiasm. “So you’ll follow orders, just like the good sub you are, right?” Dean nodded a third time, desperately. “In that case, you _will_ keep silent.” Biting back a moan, Dean nodded one last time. His heart raced, his body throbbing in time to the rise and fall of Cas’ body as he opened himself on Jimmy’s fingers. Even with no hand guiding them, Dean and Cas’ flushed, sweaty bodies were close enough together that their cocks bobbed together, brushed, rubbed, every time Cas rose and fell. Exquisite pleasure accompanied each, the feeling amplified now that he no longer had permission to voice it. Suddenly, it felt like the headiest moans in the world were trying to claw free of his throat, and repressing them left him giddy with bliss and expectation.

Panting heavily, Cas pumped up and down rigorously, moans leaking from his lips. Dean’s hands fell to Cas’ hips, fingers resting in the curve of Cas’ pelvis, offering the modest encouragement that was all he felt comfortable giving. Each time Cas rocked back, Dean’s entire body tensed in anticipation, and the sound of Cas’ voice drowned out the world. He choked back every needy, desperate whimper that tried to escape him, but couldn’t suppress the voice reminding he couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, couldn’t come until Cas told him to.

“No other rules, Dean,” Cas rasped, somehow reading his damn mind. “Unless you want them. I love watching you obey because you enjoy doing so, but I won’t ask you to delay your orgasm for me, not today. Move as you will, come as you will, and trust that I will tell you if I’m alright. Nod if you agree.” Before he could answer, Cas sucked a kiss over Dean’s throbbing pulse and then sank his teeth in, biting hard, and it was all Dean could do to channel his groan of mingled pain and pleasure into a frantic nod. A pulse squeezed along Dean’s cock, threatening him with climax.

_I’m just the same, just the same, Cas, I love that you give me orders because doing so brings you pleasure, love that my obedience gets you off, love how gentle you are even in command. Love how you give me everything, Cas, love how you want me...want you, want you so much, all of you, right now!_

A hand on Dean’s cock drew him back to the moment, his blurred vision swimming into focus to reveal Jimmy guiding Cas’ hips, steering Cas into place over Dean’s erection.

“Slide your ass back a little, towards the back of the couch,” Jimmy instructed. Dean did so, skin finding an unpleasant damp spot he’d left when he moved forward, old sweat cool against his skin. “Pivot your hips forward, Cassie. Alright, reach down and take Dean’s cock from me, hold it upright, try to aim your ass towards it if you can. I’m going to hold you open and line you up. Dean, be ready. This is gonna be damn tight – I don’t care _what_ Cassie told you, if this is too painful for you, speak up, okay?”

“I might hurt him?” All the command vanished from Cas’ voice, replaced by concern. It might have been the single most endearing thing Dean had heard Cas do, and he couldn’t help but grin, place a hand on Cas’ cheek, and steer him into an affectionate kiss. Worry and surprise gave way to a sigh as Cas eased into Dean’s tenderness. “If it’s too much, you have to say something,” Cas breathed against Dean’s lips. Dean nodded his agreement decisively and went to kiss Cas again...

...only to break off and throw his head back, mouth open wide around a soundless cry, as fingers brushed the head of his leaking cock, guided him against Cas’ hot, wet hole, and encouraged their bodies together, urged Cas down surrounding him. Dean could feel the thumb catching and stretching Cas’ rim, touching both of them, connecting them. The hand Cas had on Dean’s dick tensed, and each breath that escaped Cas was increasingly vocal, a low moan with each exhale. It was all Dean could do not to follow suit, and his chest heaved with each rushing pant. He’d waited a fucking lifetime for this, and every second longer was agony. Hands tensing around Cas’ hips, it was all Dean could do not to scream frustration, not to rut up into Cas’ body, not to chase the tantalizing hints he’d gotten of what was to come.

 _Need to be in him right now_.

“Hold still, Dean,” muttered Jimmy distractedly.

 _No. Can’t. Want. Need. Now_.

The thumb slipped away as the taut ring of muscles slid over Dean’s head, constricted his sensitive flesh, and bliss coursed through Dean’s entire body, pre-come bursting out to further lubricate the way.

_Now, Cas, now!_

Infuriatingly slowly, Cas enveloped him, entrance as tight as Jimmy had warned, a compressing ring that edged down Dean’s length painfully, culminating in ever-increasing pleasure as each bit of him won through to the lesser pressure within, the greater heat and wetness that Dean _knew_ craved the friction that only his thrusting cock could give.

 _Have to have you now_.

“Dean,” whimpered Cas. “God, you’re so _big_. You said it was different...you both said...but I didn’t realize...I don’t know if I can...I don’t...”

_NO!_

Frustration howled in Dean’s head, but hurting Cas was unthinkable. The downward movement stopped, and tears leak from Dean’s eyes. His raging thoughts drowned out Cas’ breathing, the desperate rush of need coursing through his blood and tingling along his skin blocked out the feel of Cas’ arms around his shoulder. His mouth snapped shut and he snagged his lip painfully between clenched teeth. He needed something to ground him, something to pull him back, something to remind him that Cas came first and that under _no_ circumstances would it be alright for him to tense his grip on Cas’ hips and pull Cas down onto him hard even as he thrust up from the couch and _fuck_ did he want to do that, to own Cas as Cas had owned him so many times, to give Cas the pleasure Cas had given him over and over again.

_Please, please, now!_

“It’s up to you,” Jimmy said from a world away.

_I’m begging you, Cas!_

Strong fingers wrapped compressingly tight around Dean’s upper arms, bringing him back to himself. Gentle lips urged Dean to release the vicious bite he ground into his lip, and silently Cas began to lower himself once more. A relieved breath burst from Dean’s lungs. After a fucking _lifetime_ , Cas’ ass rested against Dean’s thighs. Cas whimpered at every breath, hints of pain mingled with his obvious pleasure. Once he was fully seated, he went still, and they waited through the long, slow process of Cas’ body acclimating to the greatest intrusion it had ever experienced.

Fuck if it wasn’t _perfect_ to be inside Cas. Now that he was fully within, Dean could tolerate waiting, even thrive on it, as the delay gave him time to pull himself away from brink of orgasm where he’d been tottering for so long. Gradually, Dean felt muscles loosen, relieving the pained clench around Dean’s cock until there was nothing but the glorious feeling of Cas’ narrow, constricting, virgin channel, hot and wet and applying friction to him everywhere. He’d dreamed of doing this with Cas more times than he could fricken _count_ since he was fucking fourteen years old, and now he was finally, _finally_ , buried balls deep in one of the two hottest men on the planet. On the verge of laughing, a cocky grin spread over his lips.

_Fuck, yeah! No regrets with my life!_

“You ready, Dean?” A finger brushed tenderly over Dean’s chin, and he nodded, shrugging tension from his shoulders, easing his grip on Cas’ hips. “Good. So am I.”

Lifting himself, easing Dean out maybe an inch, Cas slid down again with a guttural groan. Every movement was slow, Cas’ muscles clenched and taut with the effort as Cas moved just the same over and over again, a little up, a little down. Each thrust rolled the tight ring over the lower part of Dean’s cock, rolled pleasure through his body, and Dean found his breathing, his heartbeat, everything syncing up with the pace Cas set. His hips rolled up slightly from the couch each time. As Cas settled in to the steady movement, he began to make slight changes, adding a pivot of his hips, shifting left or right, wiggling his ass hilariously, rocking backwards as he settled. Every variation was accompanied by pleasured gasps and faint groans increasingly tinged with frustration.

The reason for Cas’ actions defied Dean’s comprehension, and though at first he thought of little beyond how he felt one hard thrust from bursting come into Cas’ channel, as he accustomed to the rhythm and tiptoed back from the danger of spontaneous orgasm, he began to worry at Cas’ irritation. Cas sounded like he was enjoying himself, his closed eyes leaked tears, his expression rapt with concentration and effort, his chest arched slightly forward as he rode Dean eagerly. However, something was missing.

 _I’m not getting his prostate_.

Jimmy hovered behind Cas, curiosity and uncertainty battle on his face, his eyes wide and dark with lust as he watched his fucking _gorgeous_ , absolutely _perfect_ brother fucking himself on their shared boyfriend. Dean could imagine what voyeuristic fantasies he and Cas were fulfilling at that moment, knowing how he’d felt the night before holding Jimmy as Cas made love to him for the first time. Catching Jimmy’s eye, Dean silently suggested that Jimmy move close behind Cas. It took a couple attempts to get the message across, but Cas was so absorbed in his own efforts he didn’t notice. As Jimmy took his position, a look of understanding suddenly lit his face, and he gave Dean a smirk and a thumbs up.

Firming his grasp on Cas’ hips, as Cas rose, Dean jerked him forward and rolled Cas’ ass back, knocking Cas off balance backwards, where Jimmy caught him easily. Cas gave a startled cry as settled back again. The angle wasn’t radically different, but it changed the angle between their bodies, tilted Cas’ channel as compared to Dean’s thrusts, just enough forward that Dean had leverage for a firmer thrust. Settling his hips into the couch cushions, pulling out a few inches, Dean snapped forward and filled Cas. The head of his cock glanced fucking _stupendously_ off something solid and pleasure whitewashed the room.

“Oh my _God_ ,Dean!” Cas’ body shook around Dean, shook through him, and he barely gasped back his orgasm.

“That what you were looking for, Cassie?” Jimmy said smugly. The brothers came back into focus, Jimmy slipping hands beneath Cas’ armpits, Cas still obviously dazed. No matter how many times Jimmy had fingered Cas, there was no way it had felt like that. Smugly proud of himself, Dean drew back and drove home again, and Cas cried out wordlessly.

Dean and Jimmy managed to hold onto control for four solid thrusts, four strikes that had Cas’ face contorted in pleasure, his eyes unfocused and full of tears, his chest heaving, before Cas snarled at them both and seized the initiative. Cas shrugged off Jimmy’s hold, took a bruising grip of Dean’s hips, rocked back on his heels and did a perfect imitation of the movement Cas had down. With a grunt of irritation to mark his failure, Cas tried again, shimmying himself slightly further back, using the strength of his entire legs to lift himself, and the thrust down again hard.

“Got it,” he snapped triumphantly.

Without a moment’s pause, Cas repeated the movement, again, again, shifting himself as he needed to take exactly what he wanted. Each thrust was shallow and quick and still so tight, and within two strokes Dean’s awareness narrowed to the friction of his cock in Cas’ tight body, the strength of the muscles surrounding him, rippling, clenching and unclenching, and the tide of bliss attempting to drown him. Every slight shift was electric, every thrust felt earth-shaking.

_Cas!_

His grip on Cas’ hips went limp, it was all he could do to hold back his orgasm as Cas took exactly what he wanted from Dean’s body, as he so often did, and it was fucking _perfect_ , like it _always_ was. The slap of flesh on flesh, loud even over Dean’s breathing, accompanied the rise and fall of Cas’ body. Though Cas still didn’t get Dean over his prostate every time, the sounds leaking from Cas made it clear that Cas’ aim was getting progressively better, and each time Cas cried out or moaned, Dean had to bite his lip to keep from doing the same. His eyes raked over Cas’ body, flushed and sweaty and straining, and Dean’s gaze suddenly found Cas’ erection, curled tight and red and desperate along Cas’ thigh. Shame flitted through Dean, that he had neglected such an obvious means of increasing Cas’ enjoyment, that he’d been so focused on himself he hadn’t even thought of Cas’ cock. Fumbling, Dean forced his aching hand to move, tracing along Cas’ thigh, smearing his fingers with the leaking, dripping pre-release to the accompaniment of Cas gasping and breaking his rhythm in shocked pleasure. Wrapping his hands around Cas, Dean stroked eagerly, and Cas went limp and still for a moment, a moan breaking into a sob of relief and joy.

“ _Yes_ , Dean!” Weakly, Cas resumed his pace, and Dean mimicked the movements of Cas’ body, stroking up when Cas rose, twisting and jerking down when Dean penetrated Cas deepest. “ _God_ you feel so _good_. Why’d we wait a year to do this?”

It felt like Dean’s entire being pulsated in time to the movement of his hand over Cas’ cock, the movement of Cas’ body around his dick. The feeling throbbed and built, each pulse billowing out only to concentrate thick and rapturous as he filled Cas over and over again.

_God, Cas!_

“What is it, Dean?”

Dean’s stroke picked up urgency. He craved the feel of Cas’ muscles, already so tense, tightening spontaneously and then easing around Dean as Cas reached his climax, needed to feel that before he could let himself go.

_Going to fill you...going to come..._

“Speak!”

Cas was so rigid around him it was painful, his skin felt afire, and a groan ripped from Dean, gravel over sandpaper.

“Castiel! Aw, _fuck, Castiel_!” The words burst from Dean’s lips, rapture and prayer straight to heaven as his orgasm slammed into him, stole his breath away, flattened him like he’d fallen from a fucking airplane and plummeted into fucking _paradise_.

“Dean,” panted Cas. “Dean...Dean...help me, Jimmy...oh, _Dean_...” Hips stuttering to a stop, fingers closed over Dean’s benumbed hand, and Jimmy’s firm grip worked both their hands over Cas’ cock. “ _Jimmy_!” Hot come landed thick on Dean’s hand and Dean screamed at how tightly Cas’ muscles contracted around him, ecstasy so powerful it felt like a second orgasm seized him. Cas was actually fucking _sobbing_ , and somehow Jimmy must have sensed something of how much pain was mingled in with Dean’s bliss, because in moments Cas was off him, lifted free by his brother. Relief and disappointment shared equal parts as Cas’ weight came away and Dean’s cock pulled out, and Dean moaned weakly and flopped bonelessly to his side on the couch, gasping for every breath.

“That...was fucking... _awesome_...”

Sweaty weight settled half next to him, half on top of him, as limp and replete in every half-assed movement as Dean felt.

“Yeah...” murmured Cas.

“You guys remember when I joined you for the first time, and I spent like two days afterwards babbling about how watching Cassie fuck you, Dean, was the hottest thing I’d ever seen?”

Dean bungled a nod against the couch cushions, felt Cas nodding against his side. Awkwardly, Dean lifted an arm and dropped it heavily onto Cas’ side and shoulder, and Cas collapsed into the contact with a sated, contented sigh.

“Guys, _this_ was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

The flick of Cas’ chest against Dean’s back as Cas chuckled felt weird, and Dean couldn’t help but laugh weakly as well. Their skin smacked together and pulled apart with a ridiculous wet sound, flesh sticky with drying sweat.

“I’m being serious,” Jimmy whined. “Guys, I’m hard _again_. This is like the fifth time in 24 hours or something. I’m all for an active sex life but this _can’t_ be healthy.”

“You’ll be fine,” muttered Cas petulantly with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Go do something about it. Somewhere else.” Dean wheezed another laugh.

“Really?” snapped Jimmy. “ _Really_? Hey, did I object when you asked for _Dean_ to be your first? No, I didn’t, cause I’m an awesome brother, and I know how to share. Did I complain when he was with you for months before I got a shot at him? Of course not, because I’m an awesome brother, and I know how to share. Did I mind lubing up my hand and giving Dean one _hell_ of a prostate massage last night, even though I’d already gotten mine? No, because...

“...you’re an awesome brother and you know how to share,” mimicked Dean and Cas simultaneously.

“ _Exactly_. And now, you’re just gonna leave me hanging?” Jimmy snagged his pants and lowered them to reveal his erection, thick and drooping heavily, most definitely hanging.

“He’s right,” Cas murmured thoughtfully.

“It does seem a little unfair,” Dean conceded reluctantly.

They didn’t say a thing, they simply shared a single thought as Cas shifted and rose, Dean followed suit, and before Jimmy could process what had happened, two sets of lips were on his cock, Cas mouthing against the tip, Dean licking down the length, taking a testicle into his mouth and sucking hard.

“Holy _fuck_ ,” groaned Jimmy. “I fucking _love_ you guys, you know that?”

“Yep,” Cas drew away just long enough to speak, and then enveloped Jimmy’s head with his lips.

“Sure do,” Dean added smugly, sucking kisses against the base of Jimmy’s cock.

“You two are gonna kill me,” whimpered Jimmy.

“I’ve heard four orgasms in a day can do that to a guy,” said Cas.

“Liar,” Jimmy muttered. “I’ve had way more than thaaaaaaa...”

There wasn’t much more room for conversation, Dean and Cas’ mouths both otherwise occupied, and Jimmy’s thoughts dissolving in pleasure, his words fragmenting into pleasured moans and random babbling. Utterly aroused by Dean and Cas’ display, two mouths had Jimmy coming hard in minutes, climaxing so hard he ended up on his knees on the ground with Dean, shivering and moaning as he slumped against Dean with a happy sigh that exactly mirrored the one Cas had made earlier. Jimmy’s weight inordinately heavy against his exhausted body, Dean drooped against the base of the couch, and Cas slid to the floor with them and wrapped his body over them both as if doing his best imitation of being a blanket. It was particularly ridiculous considering Cas was naked, the only one of them who hadn’t somehow managed to retain clothing through all of that. Worried that Cas might be cold, Dean enfolded his waist and pulled him close, encouraging Cas to nestle against his body, urged Jimmy to do similarly against his side.

“You’re ours,” murmured Jimmy giddily, leaning down to barely glance lips over Dean’s forehead. “No one else gets to have you.”

“We’ll share with Sam,” added Cas sleepily. “Platonically.”

A laugh that felt fucking _amazing_ burst from Dean’s lips.

“Come on, Cassie, we’ve talked about this,” a hint of petulance entered Jimmy’s voice. “You said if Sam really wanted to join in, and Dean was cool with it, we could totally go there. You promised me!”

“In your dreams, Novak,” said Dean, grinning.

“All the damn time, Winchester,” sighed Jimmy. “You have no idea.”

“We’d need Sarah’s consent, too,” Cas’ murmured.

“Takes five to orgy,” Jimmy shrugged.

“You’d know.”

“Yeah, well, I gave all that up for you,” Jimmy said. With an awkward lift of his shoulders, Jimmy tried to get up, apparently having forgotten that Cas was laying mostly on top of him. The effort ended abortively with Jimmy collapsing back against Dean, giggling. “Best decision I ever made.” Dean grinned and wrapped an arm around Jimmy’s waist, pulling Jimmy close. “Cool with you if I sleep right here?”

“Yup. Cas?”

“Wha...?”

“Takin’ that as a yes.”

“We’re going to regret this so much in the morning.”

“You know...I really don’t think we will.”

 _Utterly fucking_ perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and *done!*
> 
> Dudes, I so didn't think this fic was gonna get so long. :) If I'd realized how much was going to come out of "the morning after" I'd just have incorporated the whole thing into "Sticks and Stones" as one story. Ah well.
> 
> I have a few ideas for future stories, two in particular that are trying to eat holes in my brain (both prequels) but I have no idea what I'll write next, for all I know I'll end up doing something else entirely, I'm so done guessing cause seriously every time I'm like, "expect this next!" ...I'm so, so wrong.
> 
> But...something will be next! Either for this or one of my other stories! Promise! :)

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 2 will be the plotty bits. ;) Probably not more smut? But I don't know, I haven't written it yet, or particularly thought about it.
> 
> Note that it'll probably be a few days before the second chapter is up, I have company for the weekend. :)


End file.
